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wndaswife · 21 days

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While on a family vacation alongside some of your father’s coworkers’ families, you and your stepmother take some time of the trip to yourselves.

Tags | MDNI: smut, fluff, strap-ons, brief handjob sorta, praise, mommy kink, soft top!wanda maximoff

drabble for matriarchal disturbance

Wanda wrung the last of the shower water from her bikini that she had used to wash away the sand and ocean water then hung it from the balcony of your resort room.

It didn’t take much begging for your dad to book a separate room for you, as he agreed that you should have your own privacy on vacation. It was a celebratory trip and had something to do with Stark Industries, and a few of his close coworkers, all with high positions within the company, brought their families along too.

Also, you wanted to have your own room to get some privacy with your stepmother when you could — which, thankfully, turned out to be a rather large amount, since she wasn’t all that entertained being Vision’s trophy wife while he conversed with his friends, which was most of what he’d been doing for the trip so far.

“Do you want me to hang your swimming things too, Y/N?” Wanda offered sweetly as you laid sprawled out on the bed after your shower together.

“Yes, please. Thanks,” you told her, opening your eyes and giving her a smile.

She smiled back at you then took your things, wrung it out, then hung it beside hers.

Wanda shut the sliding door then removed her towel from her hair, letting brown hair fall in damp waves down her arms. She hung the towel on one of the armchairs then all but leapt into bed beside you, to which you immediately wrapped your arms around her and elicited a giggle from your stepmother.

“I liked having you to myself today,” you said, hugging her close as she nuzzled her nose into your neck, taking in your freshly-showered scent.

She hummed in agreement and you questioned, “How much of the evening do you think we’ll have?”

Wanda laid her head on the pillow and thought for a moment. “A few hours. I think they’re just getting drinks. Your dad will be fast asleep the moment he gets back to the room, so I’ll leave only when you kick me out.” She said that last part with a playful grin.

“I’m so lucky,” you said, smiling.

Your stepmother nodded in agreement. “You are,” she said, raising her head from the pillow and kissing you.

Your arm slid down from her waist, your hand slipping under her skimpy silk pajamas shorts and groping her ass. She moaned into your mouth, giving you access to slip your tongue into hers before she took the chance to shift her weight onto her knee and heel of her palm so she could position herself on top of you.

Lovingly, your other hand moved up the soft curve of her spine then her lower back to cradle the back of her head.

Wanda lifted her head and parted from your lips. “I want to do it,” she panted softly.

“Now?”

She nodded.

“Did you bring it?” she asked.

With a tiny laugh, you answered, “Yeah, of course.”

After getting over her initial bashful reaction to your response, Wanda teased, her fingers dancing against your chest, “Well, I’ll feel quite privileged to be the first to use it on our vacation.”

“The first?” you repeated. “You plan to get in several more good uses while we’re here?”

Wanda ducked her head into the crook of your neck embarrassedly as she laughed. “Hopefully,” she muttered against your skin.

“I’m a bit embarrassed wearing this,” Wanda confessed as she stood between your knees at the edge of the bed while you fastened the strap around her hips. She still had her pink camisole on that matched her shorts which had now been discarded, and she looked quite sexy wearing her pajamas with the strap.

You tightened it, checking in with your stepmother to make sure she was comfortable when she moved her hips and legs around, before leaning back a bit to get a good view. “No, don’t be embarrassed. It suits you.”

“Are you being honest?” she asked, looking up from the silicone to you.

“Honestly, it does,” you answered. “It’s kind of hot knowing you’re a bit embarrassed about it too. Actually, I think you with a cock satisfies more fantasies than I ever thought I had.”

Wanda flushed and she pulled her camisole over her hips. “Y/N…” she said, a bit embarrassed.

You straightened and wrapped an arm around her hips. “Wanda, I’m really serious — I like how it looks on you. Don’t be embarrassed. It’s just me. And you know how much I appreciate how much you always wanna give back, and how much you want to experiment.”

She smiled as she looked down at you, stepping forward into your embrace. “I suppose I could get used to it,” she confessed quietly.

“I know I could,” you said then moved yourself back onto the bed, Wanda following after and crawling on top of you.

“You have to tell me how to do everything, okay?” she asked. “And you have to make sure to tell me exactly how you feel — if I’m hurting you, if I’m making you feel good.”

It wasn’t very hard to figure out that it was in Wanda’s nature to be quite motherly. Ever since your relationship with your stepmother bettered exponentially, there was far more you did together than before. Naturally, Wanda took on a more prominent role in your life, much to her enjoyment. She was able to keep up with what you were doing at school and visit you often. But it seemed that what she liked to do the most was just to care for you; she often asked how you were doing with your classes and what you did during the day and if you ate, and when she came over, she either came with food or cooked for you.

Reassuringly, you told her, “I promise I will.”

Wanda seemed to be comforted by your response, both by your role in what she wanted to try, and in her own skin wearing the strap for the first time.

Moving onto your elbow slightly in order to get a better view of her, you squirted lube into your hand and applied it onto Wanda, who watched observantly with her forearm and knee holding herself up, angling her hips properly.

She then realized that it was extremely true that there was a kind of mind-connection made in wearing the strap like you had told her about when she asked out of curiosity before, because there was this warm flush that she felt crawl up her cheeks and up to her ears as she watched your hand wrap around her, pumping gently along the length and coating it in lube.

You must have heard her breathing quicken, for the way you coated the silicone cock became increasingly teasing, and Wanda could tell, for she felt a pressure develop between her thighs at the way your wrist began rotating rhythmically and how you moved over her tip.

“I bet you’re loving the strap now,” you whispered slyly as Wanda made attempts to regain her composure in order to focus.

Wanda swallowed and got on both her knees steadying herself on top of you. “How should I do it?” she asked, looking at you for guidance.

Supportively, you took hold of your stepmother’s hand and wrapped it around the base of the strap. “Just position it right where you would enter when we’re both ready, and keep your hand around it until it’s in enough and you can use your hips to enter the rest of the way.”

She nodded then looked back up to you. “I’m not ready yet,” she said, biting her bottom lip.

“It’s okay,” you answered, smiling a little at how cute she looked, simultaneously nervous but also incredibly eager to please you in ways she hadn’t ever before.

You wrapped your arms around her waist and brought her against you. She lowered to kiss you and brushed your hair out of your face.

“I have the strap,” she said against your lips, opening her eyes and meeting yours once you opened your own.

“Yes,” you answered, a smile forming.

“We’re on vacation.”

You laughed. “Also yes.”

“These are very big steps for us.”

“I’ll ask you to move into my dorm next.”

Your stepmother looked beautiful when she laughed. She seemed so free and sincere, and you knew that she was able to feel safe with you, and that she felt taken care of.

You placed your hands on Wanda’s hips and moved her onto her back, causing her to giggle and reach up for your shoulders. You kissed her and slipped a hand under her camisole to grope one of her breasts, eliciting a soft moan from the older woman. She felt her desire begin to heighten when you began kissing her neck, running your tongue up her skin, and nipping softly at her earlobe.

“Y/N,” she sighed.

“You’re so beautiful,” you uttered against her shoulder as you moved to kiss lower. Her hair had spread out around her head and her moans sounded so delicate. She was the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen, truly.

Then either side of your face was carefully cupped by Wanda’s hands as she raised your head and kissed your lips, and she shifted her weight and switched positions with you so she was on top again.

One hand parted from your face while the other moved down between your thighs, fingers gently massaging against your pussy and drawing loose circles around your clit while her other hand continued to cradle the side of your head.

She raised her head and watched as you moaned and squeezed your eyes shut beneath her. She peppered soft kisses onto your face then parted from your body and straightened onto her knees.

With her hands now on your hips, warm palms moving up and down soothingly, your stepmother asked, “Are you ready, Y/N?”

You nodded. “I’m ready.”

As you watched Wanda shift her focus, cautiously applying a bit more lube to the strap before doing as you had previously shown her and positioning herself with your opening, you realized you were also quite excited for her.

Wanda was normally quite nervous about new things, and she was trying something new for herself no doubt, but also for you, and she was able to because she felt safe with you.

“The tip is in. I’m going to keep going, okay?” she asked, looking up from between her hips then at you. She advanced when you nodded, one of her hands planted on the bed by your hip holding herself up, and the other delicately rubbing the side of your thigh.

Then she was far enough that she could rejoin you on top, looking down between your hips as she carefully moved forward. Like you sometimes did, she pulled out and gently thrusted back in so you could adjust to the size.

She looked up at you when you groaned softly.

“Are you still feeling alright?” she asked.

You nodded and kissed her forehead.

Reassured, she continued, and soon she was all the way in. “I think I’m in. Can you feel me?” she asked, applying a bit of pressure by pressing her palm down on your stomach.

Your back arched slightly from the bed and you moaned. “Yeah, I can feel you,” you answered.

Wanda positioned herself so she was right on top of you, her elbow placed beside your hand with her other hand caressing your hip. Then she began moving her hips with hesitation at first, but picking up speed when she faced little resistance.

When she became quicker, your arms wrapped around her waist, encouraging her. “Wanda, that makes me feel so good,” you told her.

She pressed the most delicate kiss to your lips and watched your expression intently from above you, watching as you reacted to different speeds, even experimenting with thrusting a bit rougher.

It seemed you liked it when she kept a rather steady, average pace while thrusting in a bit harshly, for she quickly had you a mess beneath her, grasping for her back and her hair and her waist.

She let go of your hip and cupped your cheek lovingly. “You’re doing so good, Y/N,” she cooed. Her thumb moved over your cheekbone when your eyebrows furrowed together at a particularly harsh thrust, your lips parting to let out a whine.

“You look so pretty underneath me,” she breathed, panting softly as she continued to fuck you. “So sensitive. You know mommy takes care of you.”

You audibly groaned at the usage of the title. It was always you who called Wanda ‘mommy,’ and though she liked it immensely, she hardly ever used it for herself — she got far too flustered when you used it on her, much less for herself.

Wanda seemed to have been paying close attention to exactly what you liked, for she was fucking you at the perfect speed and with just the perfect amount of toughness.

You could hear her efforts in her breathing, in how she panted and how she grunted softly into your ear so you could hear her steady effort in the form of warm exhales against your temple.

Then she was kissing your temple and the side of your nose, your cheeks and your lips and your chin, kissing around your parted mouth as you moaned declarations of how good she was making you feel.

“Y/N, you’re so beautiful,” your stepmother sighed, kissing the tip of your nose before tucking her hand under your shirt and lifting it above your breasts. She made brief eye contact with you before she wrapped her lips around one of your nipples, flicking her tongue over it in her mouth.

You arched your back and Wanda picked up speed, wanting to hear you louder, more desperate for her.

“I’m gonna come,” you whimpered, and your stepmother raised her head from your breasts and repositioned her face above yours.

She hooked her finger under your chin and made you look up at her. “You can come, Y/N. You’ve been such a good girl,” she told you with a supportive smile. “Come for mommy.”

Her hand returned to your cheek, stroking it with her thumb tenderly as you came beneath her, your stepmother whispering out a string of praises, telling you things like how pretty you looked and how safe you were with her.

“There we go.” Wanda pressed a kiss to your lips as you caught your breath. “I’m going to pull out now, okay?”

She raised herself slightly and got onto her knees after you nodded. She pulled out of you slowly then undid the harness, setting it to the side.

“Was that alright?” Wanda asked once she settled back down, cuddling into your side and looking up from your shoulder.

“Wanda, that was amazing. You did great,” you told her, stretching yourself out like a cat then wrapping both arms around her.

Peeking up, she asked with a wide smile, “Really?”

You nodded. “Did you like it?”

“I did,” she answered. “I liked to see you that way. I thought you looked really cute. I liked to know I was making you feel good.”

“Oh, and when you called yourself mommy,” you said, “I loved that.”

Wanda laughed and turned a bit so she could face you better. “I knew you would — that’s why I did it,” she confessed. “I’m glad you did.”

“I’m happy you wanted to experiment with things.”

“Me too. I had fun.” She smiled at you and you kissed her forehead.

“Is extreme bondage next?” you joked.

Your stepmother scoffed and pushed away from you. “Extreme bondage will never be next.”

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel smut #elizabeth olsen

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rockettothestars222 · 2 months

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Summary : After the battle with Adam, Alastor disappeared. Everyone was sure he was dead, but you knew better than that. You find him injured and vulnerable in his broken down radio tower, and decide to give him a hand with his wounds.

Tags : GenderNeutral!reader, reader is shorter than Al, soft!Alastor, sorta, fluff, lots of fluff, hurt/comfort, Alastor is losing it

Notes : My first Tumblr one shot! Hopefully this isn’t too OOC, but writing a character who hides any sign of real emotion being vulnerable is difficult. Enjoy!

Word Count : 2,418

——————

You breathed, Hell’s fiery air stinging your lungs as you looked around at the death and destruction that surrounded you. You look back over your shoulder, Charlie’s quiet sniffles taking your attention. Lucifer was knelt in front of her, his hand brushing her cheek, a weak attempt at comforting her after her life’s dream was just destroyed. You frowned, your brow creasing together as you felt a hand on your shoulder. Looking up, your gaze me with Angel Dust’s.

“You did good out there,” he smiles down at you, an excited squeal coming from the pig in his opposite arms. You muster a strained grin, but his fades. “Still sucks though, huh?”

You nod, dropping your grin, “Yeah, still sucks. I can’t believe it’s all gone,” you look away from the arachnid, your eyes casting over the destroyed hotel once again. Angel nods, his arm drifting around your shoulder and giving you a squeeze, the best, and really the only, form of comfort he knows how to provide.

“We’ll rebuild it,” he squeezes you again, before releasing you and approaching Charlie and the rest of the group. You follow behind, though your gaze remains astray, scanning the battleground. Looking for any sign of someone alive. You know deep down who you were looking for.

Alastor, the overlord you’d grown to call a friend.

Not everyone would consider him that, but you were an optimist. You hoped he’d consider you the same. No one in Hell would be as kind as he had been to you without considering you some sort of friend. Or, well, as kind as an overlord like him could be. And everyone was convinced he was gone, but you weren’t that naive. Alastor, if faced with death or fleeing, would flee. He was snarky and a bit egotistical, sure, but he wasn’t an idiot.

“Uhm, hey, I’m going to get see if I can find any of my stuff out here. Maybe some of it is salvageable,” you call to the rest of the group, stepping closer to the mess that used to be your home. The ground cracked beneath you as you stepped across the rubble. Charlie, who’d seemingly made her peace with the tragedy that had occurred, looked to you, rising to her feet.

“Do you want any help?”

“No, no, I got it,” you were lying to your teeth, but you had to see if he was out there. She looked at you with sympathetic eyes, walking closer and wrapping you in a tight hug. Your arms wrap around her waist, squeezing her close.

“Be careful out there, okay? I don’t want you getting hurt on anything. We’re going to go and get something to eat, try and relax a bit before we start rebuilding tomorrow. Text me when you’re done, you can meet us out there, okay?” She pulls away from you, her hands still resting on your shoulders as yours fell to your sides.

“I’ll be careful, I promise,” you assure, smiling as the taller girl pulls away from you fully, waving you goodbye as she approaches the rest of the group. You watch as they leave, before turning back to the rubble, that strained smile of yours dropping. You rubbed your cheeks. How did Alastor do that all the time?

And with that, you were off, wandering as your eyes scanned the area, reminiscing as you came across bits and pieces of the place you’d called home for the past 6 months. Broken pieces of Sir Pentious’ old machinery make your brows furrow together, a feeling that you could only describe as grief swallowing your thoughts for a brief moment, your chest tightening. You stared at that machine for a good few minutes before tearing your gaze away, trying to look at anything else.

And there it was.

A good 30 feet from you was Alastor’s radio tower. Some of the windows broken, dented, and on its side, but for the most part it was still in tact. You began to walk towards it, without much thought. He’d spent a lot of time there before you’d all started preparing for the extermination. He was insistent it was the best part of the hotel.

The closer you got, the more hesitant you became. If the trail of blood in the dirt wasn’t off putting enough, the green glow that was emitting from tower surely was. But these two things sealed one thing in your mind: Alastor was alive. Of course he was, you’d known that. But that small strand of doubt was planted in your head by the others.

You walk around the broken and dented structure, before finding that the hatch inside was already open. You drew a final breath before pulling yourself up and inside. As you heaved yourself into the tower, you were met with something hard to look at. Alastor had his back turned to you, one arm over his chest, one arm helping him hold himself upright against the control panel of the tower. His overcoat had been thrown to the floor, it was a rare sight to see him without it. You frowned, pushing off of the floor and standing. You wanted to move closer, but weren’t sure you could do so without startling the overlord. If you’d managed to get this close without him noticing, you knew he must be very deep in thought.

“Alastor?” You tried, your voice soft. Even so, Alastor’s whole body stilled, his head turning sharply to look at you, his horns and shoulders growing two times their normal size. He had a wild look in his eye, but seemed to calm as he realized it was you, his body relaxing, and returning to its original position. His expression had turned sour, despite the constant smile.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he replied, his voice hoarse as he looked away. You frowned, stepping closer, avoiding the pools of blood on the ground.

“Alastor, we thought you were dead,” your voice was back to its normal volume.

The static sound, that was nearly a constant whenever Alastor was near, seemed to grow louder as his entire body span to face you, almost as if he were going to get angry, but he stumbled, both of his hands going back and gripping the control panel behind him. Now, you could see the giant gash across his chest, blood seeped into his shirt. Your eyes trailed from the bottom of his wound, up to meet his eyes. There was something behind them that you couldn’t quite place.

There was a beat of silence before you piped up again.

“He really got you, huh?” You point out the obvious, walking closer. Alastor tried to straighten himself, only using one hand to keep himself upright as the other found its way back to covering the wound.

“It is nothing that I can’t handle,” he assured, pressing his arm closer to his body. You stopped in front of him, looking into his eyes as you placed your hand on his. He wretched away, his rear pressing fully against the control panel, his hand sliding back. “Don’t.”

“Alastor,” you began, but he cut you off.

“Perhaps you misunderstood, I am FINE,” he growls, pushing himself away and walking around you, you turn to follow him with your eyes. “He may have hit me but I’m alive. Of COURSE I am. I mean, if I weren’t what would people think?”

Your brows furrowed, “what are you talking about, Al?”

“I have been a wonder to everyone since I manifested here, if I died for the princess of Hell and her low life sinners, I would be regarded as some,” he paused, clutching his chest as he turned away from you. “Altruist.”

He spat the word like it was the worst thing to ever leave his lips.

“I would be regarded at the ‘Oh so powerful Radio Demon who DIED for a chance at a redemption that isn’t even POSSIBLE.”

You walked closer to him, placing a hesitant hand on the small of his back. He glanced over his shoulder, and your expression softened.

“Alastor, no one is expecting you to die for us. All I want from you right now is. For you to let me help you,” you searched his face for any sign of agreement, but he was nearly impossible to read. A sigh escaped him. “You’re really hurt, Al.”

“I know,” he murmured, his ears flicking back as he turned to face you. He walked back towards the control panel, you trailing behind. You assumed him accepting that he was hurt was the closest thing you’d get to him saying, ‘I need help.’

“You should sit. It’ll be easier that way,” you looked up at Alastor, who was avoiding your gaze like the plague. You assumed he was ashamed of the situation he was in. He sat on the edge of the counter, snapping his fingers. A roll of bandages and pads of gauze appearing in your hands. You sat them down on the control panel beside him.

“I could have done this on my own, my dear,” he looks down at your hands as they reach for the buttons on his shirt, gently unbuttoning the first few.

“I’m sure you could have,” you murmur, though not fully paying attention to his words. You reached the last few buttons, pulling his shirt open. You could feel your face flushing as the his undershirt slipped off of his shoulders. It was a little unbelievable that the big bad Radio Demon was allowing this, but you supposed coming face to face with a second death was enough to allow a miracle.

Bending down slightly at your waist to reach better, you take some of the gauze, pressing it firmly to his wound. Alastor took a sharp inhale, his ears shifting back further than they already had been. Your frown grew deeper as you looked up at him, your free hand taking his, gently stroking your thumb across his skin.

“Alastor? Is this okay?” Your eyes scan his face, that somehow managed to display pain all while wearing that signature smile.

“It’s fine. I don’t want to hear a word about this when you’re done,” he winced, squeezing your hand as you began to wrap the bandages around the bottom half of his wound. You rolled your eyes, nodding.

“Not like anyone would believe me. I mean, you? Hurt? Impossible, right?” You pressed another piece of gauze to him, causing his claws to dig into your skin. It didn’t break, but it stung a bit. You tried your best not to show it — however hard that was — you didn’t want him to think that this, whatever this is, wasn’t okay.

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” he looked down at you, his brow creasing. You both fell silent, the crackling of radio static tickling your ears. You wrapped the rest of his wound in silence, your free hand grazing down the bandages, just barely making contact.

“You know,” you start, rising to your normal posture, finally removing your hand from his. “Letting someone help you doesn’t make you any less powerful.”

Another beat of silence as you grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling it back up over his shoulders. His hands, in one swift motion, grabbed yours and pulled you between his legs, closer to his chest. You looked up at him, your eyes widening as they met his. Just inches away from your own was The Radio Demon’s face. His eyes were pitch black, red radio dials replacing his pupils. His neck was contorted, smile stretched further than you imagined could be comfortable.

“You. Don’t. Understand,” he growled, his breath hot against your face. You tried your best to remain composed, not looking away from him as his grip on you tightened. “You are not ME. You could not possibly imagine the position I am in because of that DAMNED hotel.”

“You’re right.”

Alastor’s grip loosened immensely, his neck snapping back to be in it’s anatomically correct shape. His eyes fluttered a few times before returning to normal, he looked almost confused by your agreement. He stayed silent, even his static flushing to barely a hum.

“Alastor, I don’t know what it’s like in your shoes right now. But if you ever wanted to TELL me what it’s like, I’d be here to listen,” you, gently, squeezed his hands in yours. Alastor’s eyes scanned every inch of your face, over and over and over. Looking for any sign that you were going to use this vulnerability against him. To hurt him. To knock him down from the tower he’d built for himself. But there was none. Your expression held nothing but genuineness.

He briefly considered telling you everything that was troubling him, briefly thought about scaring you away so he didn’t have to face you, and though still brief, his thoughts lingered on the consideration of pulling you closer and thanking you for treating him like he wasn’t the monster he knew he truly was. But he did none of those things. He didn’t have time to unbox what all of those thoughts said about him. He just smiled down at you, a real smile, his left hand caressing your face.

“Thank you for helping me, my dearest,” Alastor’s voice had returned to its normal chipper tone, but it didn’t seem as fake as usual. Not when it was directed at you. A grin of your own blossomed across your face as you placed your hand on his, leaning your cheek into his hand. You turned you face a bit, placing your lips against his palm for a short moment, all while never breaking eye contact. If you didn’t know better, you’d of sworn a light blush crossed Alastor’s cheeks.

“Anytime, Al.”

Alastor cleared his throat, his ears flicking back into an upright position as he pulled his hands away from you and pushed himself up and off of the control panel. He straightened his posture re-buttoning his bloody and tethered undershirt. You quickly grabbed his overcoat so he wouldn’t try to bend over and grab it himself, and ushered back over to him. He took it from your arms, putting it on and dusting it off as if that would mend its holes and cleanse it of the blood that stained it.

“Well, I should be going now,” Alastor approached you, taking your hand for a final time and placing a kiss to your knuckles. “You are truly a diamond in the rough, darling. I’ll be seeing you soon.��

“Wait, where are you—” but before you could complete that question, he disappeared in a flash of green light and dark smoke. You blinked, your face flushing as you recalled what had just happened. You were almost unsure it was real.

You’d have to tell Charlie the new hotel was going to need a radio tower.

#fanfic #alastor #writing #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hazbin lucifer #hazbin sir pentious #hazbin vaggie #hazbin husk #hazbin fanfic #alastor x reader #alastor x you #comfort #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #rockettothestars222

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moonhoures · 7 months

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Video Games

🕷️ kinktober — day 1: angry / makeup sex 🕸️

pairing: jay (enhypen) + reader (g/n)

genre: non-idol!au, mild angst, smut

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, explicit smut, established relationship, pet name: ‘baby’ (for reader), unprotected sex, creampie

word count: ~1.9k

synopsis: jay is seemingly put in the doghouse after forgetting to pick you up from work like he promised. but there are some ways he can earn your forgiveness . . .

a/n: this is not as ‘angry’ as you’re probably picturing, but hopefully you guys like it nonetheless 😅 enjoy!

posted: october 1, 2023

kinktober masterlist

One thing. You asked him to remember one thing. “Don’t forget, I need you to pick me up from work at eight!” You told him twice and reminded him once more before you walked out of the apartment to catch a bus. Jay nodded each time, even going as far to say “Seriously, ________, I’m not a kid. I’ll remember” when you reminded him the last time.

Yet, you stood at the front door of your job at 8:17 p.m, looking and feeling stupid. Your arms were crossed tightly over your chest, and your face was stuck in an immovable scowl. You knew you should’ve taken your coworker’s offer to drive you home, but you had put your faith in your boyfriend to do what you asked of him. How silly of you.

You texted and called him multiple times before giving up; he wasn’t answering and he probably wasn’t going to any time soon. I swear if he’s playing those damn video games, you thought with a bite of aggravation. You loved your boyfriend to the moon and back, but if there’s one thing you didn’t like about him it was how attached to his games he got. He was majorly competitive, to the point it was difficult to get him off of the console, especially when he was close to winning whatever dumb game he was playing. And heaven forbid he’s playing with his friends who only encourage his habit even further.

After ten more minutes you went ahead and walked down the street to the bus stop. Your nerves were on edge and your head was on a swivel. You couldn’t help but curse Jay in your head for putting you in this position and making you so anxious. Since your car was in the shop, you had been picking up rides from him and your coworker. You wanted to avoid taking the bus at night at all cost, which is exactly why you nagged your boyfriend to pick you up tonight.

When you finally made it home, the door flung open without care, dinging against the door stopper just in front of the wall. It rattled a bit; you had hoped he would hear it and be startled. But when you walked through the living room, you were even more pissed to see him on the game with his head set on, his phone turned upside down on the table in front of him. Of course he didn’t get my texts and calls, he couldn’t see or hear them.

You scoffed, not giving him a second look as you stormed into your room and slammed the door shut. You vaguely heard him say “Hey, baby” as you got in the hallway.

You decided to run a bath to cool off before you went off on him and said some things you would regret. In the mean time Jay had found it odd you didn’t answer him, his brows knitting together. He wondered why you were in such a weird mood, but figured you might’ve just had a bad day. He shrugged and reached for his phone to check the time. Maybe I’ll have time for one more match, he thought. The screen of his phone lit up when he flipped it over, several missed notifications taking up the entire screen. Some social media notifications were interrupted by five missed texts and seven missed calls from you. Each text asking where he was, how long he would be, had he forgotten? His heart sank into his stomach.

“Shit.”

Jay tore off his headset and quickly logged out of the game, running to your bedroom door. His hand shifted the door knob but was met by resistance when he tried to open it. He closed his eyes in defeat and sighed. His knuckles tapped against the hard surface a few times, “Baby, open the door. I’m so sorry I forgot to pick you up.”

On the other side of the door, you ignored him, turning off the running water in the bath tub before walking back in the room to get some pajamas.

“________, please open the door. I’m really sorry. I know I fucked up,” he continued, voice dripping with sincerity, “I know you told me multiple times, and you don’t have to forgive me. But please just let me apologize to you. I don’t want you to go to bed upset.”

You paused at your dresser. Your determination to stay mad at him was slipping. But your pettiness wasn’t, “Did you win?”

Jay arched an eyebrow in confusion, “Huh?”

“Your game. Did you win? It must’ve been a really important match for you to forget about me.”

Jay let out a groan of annoyance, not so much with you but with himself, “Look, I’m sorry, okay? Really, I’ll do anything to make it up to you. I’ll do all the chores this weekend. I’ll cook your favorite dinner for you. I won’t play my games tomorrow.”

He heard your scoff from the hallway, practically heard your eye roll, too.

“I won’t play my games for a week,” he corrected himself, “A month even. Whatever it takes to get you to talk to me.”

His heart pounded as it grew uncomfortably quiet. He didn’t even hear your soft footsteps, so his eyes became wide when the door in front of him opened. You stood in front of him in just your robe, your disscontempt etched into your face. If looks could kill, he wondered if he would be six feet under already.

“I told you three times, Jay.”

“I know.”

He frowned, looking more ashamed than you had ever seen him. You secretly wished you didn’t love him so much. It made it harder to be upset with him. You wanted him to feel bad, at least for tonight.

“You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“I deserve that,” he agreed.

“And I’m gonna hold you to those promises,” you continued, “No games for two weeks.”

He was shocked that you had downsized the punishment from the month he suggested, but he didn’t show his surprise in case you took it back, “Okay.”

Your hardened stare lingered on him a little longer, and he grew nervous for what would come out of your mouth next. Little did he know you were actually thinking about how cute he looked. How mad you were at yourself for finding him so attractive at a time like this. Fuck you for being so hot, you thought, as if he could hear your thoughts.

“Are we good now?” he asked timidly. His hand cautiously reached up to cup your cheek in a sign of truce.

“You’ll have to earn your way back into my good graces,” you cracked a small smile.

“I’ll do anything,” he repeated, stepping closer to rest his hands on your waist. Your perfume lingered on your robe, filling his nose with the sweet, familiar fragrance that made his heart skip a beat.

“Anything?”

He nodded at your question, a smirk creeping onto his lips. If this was going in the direction he was thinking, then he was about to be a very happy man. His heartbeat accelerated as your hands found purchase on his chest, your palms flat over his pecs. Your eyes lingered on the small sliver of his collarbone that was exposed by the neckline of his t-shirt. When your gaze met his, there was a clear intention behind them that sent blood rushing to Jay’s loins.

Neither of you said anything as you tugged him into the bedroom and closed the door. In a matter of minutes you were on the bed, legs spread to make room for your boyfriend’s hips. Your robe was untied and thrown open as he slathered wet, sloppy kisses all over your neck and chest. Your hand was buried in his hair, pulling lightly on it to keep him where you wanted him.

“You’re gonna fuck me exactly how I want,” you panted, hips already bucking up against his clothed crotch. He moaned in affirmation, the vibrations tickling your nipple that was in his mouth.

“Gonna give me the best orgasm ever,” you added, looking down to see his eyes closed as he laved at your collarbone. They opened to look you in the eye as he came back face-to-face.

“Whatever you want, baby,” he assured you, nodding as he connected your lips with his once again.

Skin-on-skin contact and heavy breaths filled the room shortly after. Jay’s clothes were quickly discarded and he was pounding into you like his life depended on it. Your fingers gripped his back, loving the way you could feel his muscles flexing with every movement. He tried to hold back low grunts as your ankles locked around his waist, causing him to thrust deeper into you. He felt anchored down, but in the best possible way. This position was as close to paradise as he would probably ever get.

“Faster, Jay,” you breathed out, fingernails digging into his skin. He gritted his teeth and fastened his pace as much as he could.

“Fuck,” you cursed, legs tightening around him even more, “Jay, faster!”

“Baby, I’m trying,” he practically whimpered, his thrusts getting a little quicker, but also sloppier. He was losing stamina. You knew he was trying his best, you could just tell. You thought about giving him some slack, but then you remembered how you two got in this position in the first place. You weren’t going to go easy on him at all; he didn’t deserve it.

“Not trying hard enough,” you sighed in annoyance, moving your hips up against his thrusts for more stimulation, “You’re so annoying.”

“So suddenly?” he scoffed out a small laugh, looking at you incredulously. He knew you well enough to know you weren’t being completely serious. You were just letting out your aggression; he didn’t take it to heart.

“Y-yeah,” you panted, wincing when his cock hit a certain spot inside of you that felt a little too good, “You need to listen to me.”

He nodded, his arms shaking a bit from the energy was exerting trying to please you and keep himself stable, “I know, baby. I’m sorry. I’ll be better.”

“Promise?”

In that moment his gaze met yours, mere inches apart. Your breaths mingled between you, chests almost pressed against each other. He could tell you were getting close when he felt you growing tight around his dick. You always looked so beautiful like this—unraveling under him, by his own doing.

“Promise,” he sealed his words with a kiss against your lips, a low growl forming in his throat when you arms wrapped around his shoulders to hold him close to you. Your bodies pressed together like this, he could feel all of you; it drove him insane, “Now, cum for me.”

You were already well on your way when he spoke. Your legs constricted his lower body before growing slack at his sides. Your arms loosely circle him, keeping him close during the aftershocks of your orgasm. He came not long after, keeping slow, shallow thrusts until he came to a halt. He rested his face in the crook of your neck, simply cherishing the proximity to you.

“Can I join you for your bath?” he asked after your breaths had both settled back into their normal inflections.

“Sure, but the water’s probably cold by now. We’ll need to refill it,” your voice was sweet in answering him, as if any other answer would be ridiculous. Your next sentence, however, proved to humble him, “You’re still sleeping on the couch tonight, though.”

Jay cracked a smile, nodding in agreement as he helped you off the bed, “Understood.”

— taglist #1

@jaylaxies @xiaoting999 @kookthief @zaddywilk @wonrangwoo @pedrswrld @ikykleeknowww @odisdad @abby-grace @jungwonloveer @pinklemonadeflav @celestialplatinum @luvkpopp @nlklstan @kisses4denji @jenos-eye-smiles @a-l-i-y-a @channiesprincess @bekah931215 @mrsdacherry @heerinnie @fairygirl18 @cinnikoi @im-ur-calico-cat @unlikelysublimekryptonite

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miryum · 4 months

Text

A Green and Silver Ring (Mattheo Riddle x Reader)

An arranged marriage between you and Mattheo, one that might lead to something beautiful

Word Count: 10.3k

I know I haven't posted in a long time but I have a plan trust the process. Also, this is me coming out and saying that I love Mattheo Riddle and he's amazing

Warnings: Swearing, bad and manipulative parenting from both Mattheo and reader’s parents, a lot of misogyny (a bit from Mattheo but he gets better by a lot and it’s not that bad), arguments, Tom isn’t Mattheo’s brother and Tom is a creep, arranged marriage, one bed trope, enemies to lovers, greek mythology reference, talk of kids, needing kids to carry on family lines, and kids. Mistress is the feminine term for master (so reader isn’t Mattheo’s side piece when I refer to her as mistress), old timey talk a bit, reader is a bookworm

From the desk of Ginevra

My dearest friend,

My parents have informed me of your engagement. I was ecstatic, yet surprised, when I heard the news. I was of the assumption that your parents were allowing you to choose your husband as your family line is secure in your brother and his wife. Yet, once I learned who your husband-to-be is, I was trepidatious.

My thoughts are with you, my darling friend, and I pray for you to write to me the moment you get my letter.

I hate to break the news, but you and your fiancé are the talk of high society. Never before have two such families been intertwined. Even I have had to scold my brothers for their gossip. They seem to forget that our families are close friends.

I do not ask why your parents have made such a decision. I know they are intelligent adults and surely must have a motive, but I admit that I am blind in that regard. Your engagement seems sudden and unwarranted to me. When questioned, my mother sighed and said I would understand when I grew older. My mother continues to baffle me. I have borne two children and a third on the way! If I am not mature now, I better gain some knowledge quickly.

Always remember that I am by your side. If you ever need anything, my door is always open to you. I am sure Harry will agree.

I love you, my friend.

Ginny

From the office of Lorenzo

Miss. L/n,

I believe we’ve never been formally introduced. I’m saddened to say that this letter is as formal as we’ll get - at least until your wedding. I am sure you must be taciturn and mercurial as of now. My father has told me much about you and I believe we’ll make excellent friends and confidants in our hectic world.

You’re to be my new half-sister, aren’t you? My relatives and friends are petulant to meet you.

Before any rumours (either about myself or your fiancé) hit your ears, I’ll put a rest to them. Bellatrix, your fiancé’s mother, had an affair with my father. They produced me and in return, I have the privilege of being your fiancé’s half-brother.

Being a bastard child, I’m no stranger to being ostracised and ridiculed. To be blunt, I’m sure that you will be ostracised alongside me and I believe that is one reason we can connect.

For rumours of my half-brother, I simply say this: do not fear him. He relishes in the consternation he places in other people, yet when he heard he was to marry you, I saw panic in his eyes like no other. It seems the tables have turned. He is hesitant to be wed, but you are not the problem. He simply doesn’t want to have the responsibility of another’s life on his. Your fiancé is used to belittling people - not supporting them as a husband should.

Any questions you have about your fiancé and my half-brother (whom in case I didn’t make clear, are one and the same), refer to me without any qualms. I am eager to meet you and hopefully make your transition into the Riddle family smoother.

I am well aware you have also lived your life in the upper echelons of society. But, as I’m sure you know, there are multiple circles in our complicated community. The L/ns, the Weasleys, and the Potters, for example, have grown their fortunes truthfully and innocently. They have earned the respect of their people and those whom they employ. The Riddles, Blacks, and Berkshires, on the other hand, have climbed the ranks in unconventional means and by skipping a few rungs on the ladder. They thrive and make their living on the terror and duress they cause those under them.

I’m looking forward to making your acquaintance.

Lorenzo Berkshire

P.S. I hope I haven’t scared you off.

From the office of L/n

Daughter,

You’ll be pleased to hear the engagement has gone through. Your mother and I met your fiancé last night. He seems like a nice man. He will be able to provide for you. His family is influential.

We will return home late tomorrow evening. You will depart for Riddle Estate in a week. Begin packing.

Your father

From the desk of Ginevra

Y/n,

You worry me with your lack of communication. Usually, you can’t wait to gossip with me. We have such fun at dinners and balls, yet with the most important aspect of yourself, you don’t respond. I’m simply worried, my friend. Are you alright? I can envision you curled in your bed, not letting anyone, even your nursemaid, into your room. Please do not let your impending marriage affect your state of health. It will turn out alright. Everyone I know (even me!) had apprehensions about their marriage. And with everyone I know, it turned out alright.

Misters Sirius and Remus visited Harry and I the day before last. They came to see James and Albus, but I know there was a hidden reason as well. They know of our friendship and came to ask if the rumours are true. As much as my husband adores them, Sirius in particular can be prone to gossip. The pair tittered and tsked when I told them of your fiancé. Sirius wishes to distance himself from his family, and I know he has pre-existing thoughts of the Black family, and by extension, the Riddles.

Sometimes I take a moment to gaze at the family tree upon my drawing room wall. It is full of interconnected lines and squiggles that sometimes, it makes my head hurt! The web of family ties is complicated and if we’re not somehow related already, I know that we will be once your marriage takes place. It seems the Black family spreads its roots into the Weasley family and the Riddle family- the latter of which you’ll soon be synonymous with.

Give yourself some grace. Your fiancé falls far from the tree; I am sure of it.

Please write to me. I need to make sure my closest friend is doing well.

Best wishes,

Ginny

P.S. Hermione wishes to inform you that, from what she’s heard, your Mr. Riddle is quite attractive. I have yet to hear any of the rumours myself, but at least your husband will be pleasing to the eye. Perhaps it will make the marriage more bearable.

***

Mattheo strode leisurely through Riddle Manor. It was one of the many estates his family owned, and it was soon to be officially his. Just as soon as he married the L/n girl.

The manor was spacious, which Mattheo couldn’t help but detest. How was he and a wife supposed to fill this void of empty rooms and dark halls? He knew servants and cooks would move in, but they wouldn’t occupy the dozens of upper rooms that were vacated.

For a brief moment, Mattheo couldn’t help but envision a set of children running around the halls. One of the children would run up to him, shouting, “Papa! Papa!” Mattheo would scoop the child up, grinning, and would carry them to their room. The room would be bright and cheerful, and maybe, just maybe, you would be sitting on a settee, cradling a newborn or helping an older child with their school work.

But for now, the room was dark and uninviting and he had yet to meet his future wife. He had seen a portrait of the L/n family and while they were in lavish, colourful clothing, Mr. and Mrs. L/n seemed cold and stoic - just like his parents. The children, an older son and younger daughter (whom he presumed to be you), seemed kinder and by their body language, Mattheo could tell that the two siblings were close.

Mattheo slowly made his way down the hall. There were three wings of the manor; two were residential and the other was designed for taking guests. The East Wing - in which he and Miss. L/n would stay - was also fit with an office for him. He was expected to take over half of the family business once he got married. The West Wing would remain empty for now, sans for a large library and the furniture in the bedrooms.

The boy knew that his bride was to arrive later that day. She would stay at Riddle Estate until the end of the week. Just three short days before they were to be wed in name. Mattheo would move into Riddle Manor tonight, giving servants time to wipe the dust off of tables, shine the silverware, and fluff the pillows.

Mattheo walked the halls of his new home. His mind was devoid of any thoughts. Perhaps it was simply because he was always numb. Even when he heard of his engagement, Mattheo didn’t make a fuss. He didn’t remember thinking anything. Nothing such as ‘Oh, I can’t wait to meet her!’ or even, ‘I can’t believe mother and father are arranging my marriage! She better be obedient.’

No, Mattheo had thought nothing of the sort. He had spent his childhood quietly observing his father and mother, noticing the amount of fear they could inflict on people just by silence. You didn’t have to be loud and dramatic to be powerful. You simply couldn’t be afraid to follow up on your promises - however deadly they were.

The only question Mattheo had asked when Bellatrix informed him of his engagement was, “and what do we gain from the L/n’s?”

Bellatrix had shot him an callous and apathetic look. “Do not ask questions you needn’t the answers to, boy.”

Mattheo had glowered, but shut his mouth.

As he neared the foyer, Mattheo couldn’t help but think how marriage was a component in all aspects of his life. When he got married to the L/n girl, he would inherit a portion of his father’s estates, company, and wealth. Mattheo chucked to himself. Maybe he should’ve gotten married sooner.

***

“Pray tell, why weren’t you here when she arrived?” Bellatrix snarled as she gripped Mattheo’s arm. Her nails dug into his suit as she dragged him towards the drawing room.

“I was busy,” Mattheo replied harshly. Love was not a thing that came instinctively to his family.

“Doing what? Planning your suidide?” Bellatrix scoffed. “I would march to the Underworld and choke Hades to bring you back.” Mattheo glanced down at his mother, hesitantly surprised. But he knew better than to raise his hopes and dreams. “We need this contract with the L/n’s,” Bellatrix continued and Mattheo’s jaw ticked. Of course. She didn’t love him; she never had. Her son was purely business. He should’ve known better.

“Maybe if you would tell me what the L/n’s provide for us,” Mattheo pulled Bellatrix back before she threw open the door to where you were. “Then I would be more complacent.”

Bellatrix sneered. “You think you’re smart, boy. You think you have everything figured out in that pretty little head of yours. But remember: you’re nothing without the Riddle family name backing you up.” She paused and licked her lips. “But if you must know,” Bellatrix sighed, giving into Mattheo. “The L/n’s just came into some very… lucrative land that we could gain from if you marry Miss. Y/n L/n.”

Mattheo’s eyes flickered to the drawing room door. After a moment, he asked, “is that her name? Y/n?”

Bellatrix stared at him, aghast. “You didn’t bother to learn her name?!” She scoffed. “With a son like you…”

She pushed open the drawing room doors and Mattheo trudged after her, muttering, “at least I know her name now.”

You had been waiting for seven minutes and thirty nine seconds in the drawing room of Riddle Estate, the trackage of time dependent on the old grandfather clock standing ominously in the corner. Its pendulum swung back and forth continuously as its second hand ticked by. Mrs. Riddle had left seven minutes and thirty nine seconds ago to fetch her son.

While the room was perfectly clean, not a speck of dust on even the highest chandelier, it was still a cold and morose room, yet oddly epochal. The wood was the darkest mahogany you had ever seen and the lights cast odd shadows on the dark green wallpaper that had inlays of gold.

Your teacup that you were trying to hold steady was filled with a sad excuse for tea. There was a ring of gold around the mouth of the teacup. On the table beside you, a notch that looked as if someone dug a knife into the surface caught your attention. It was the little things like this that you noticed when you had nothing else to do. Your mind was trying to distract you.

The door then swung open and there stood your fiancé, his stare daring you to oppose him.

“Uh,” you stood, your teacup and saucer still in hand. You quickly placed them on the table, right over the knife nick. “Y/n L/n,” you introduced yourself. You bowed your head in an informal curtsy.

Mattheo’s eyes flickered over your face. “Mattheo Riddle,” he said coldly. His voice was practically velvet. You didn’t mean to look him up and down, but you couldn’t help it. He was to be your husband, after all.

Mattheo’s hair coiled at the end and his eyes were just as dark as his curls. His nose had a scarred cut on it that looked as if it was just beginning to heal. Your fiancés cheekbones were practically sculpted from marble and for a moment, you believed that the gods had simply breathed life into a statue. Did this make you Pygmalion and Mattheo Galatea?

If it weren’t for their lethal eyes and stern posture, perhaps more would be friendly to the Riddles.

Mattheo spoke, “you’re to be my fiancée.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.” You had the urge to add ‘sir’ at the end, but you bit your tongue.

Bellatrix hissed something to Mattheo and thrust a small object into his hands. Mattheo rolled his eyes and stalked towards you. “My family ring,” he grumbled. He held out an intricate silver ring with three bands interweaving. A green jewel cut into a thin diamond shape sat steadily in the middle. “It has been in the Riddle family for generations. It’s tradition to pass it down to the wife of the firstborn son. And now that is you…”

He trailed off and handed the ring to you, it laying flat on his palm. You took it from him, trying to minimise contact with Mattheo. You nodded in thanks and slid it into your ring finger.

It seemed too concrete to fathom.

Mattheo stared at the ring on your finger. A muscle jumped in his jaw. “My… wife,” he murmured halfheartedly.

***

Three weeks had passed since the wedding and it was as if you had never gotten married in the first place. Yes, it was unsettling to wake up in a bed that wasn’t your own next to a man that you were supposed to call your own. But other than necessary, Mattheo had hardly uttered a word to you.

In the three weeks you had stayed there, you had seen Mattheo a total of twenty eight times, including mornings and nights when you were forced to sleep in the same bed.

Your mornings, afternoons, and nights were all incredibly boring. You took long meals, pushing your food around. Sometimes you just sat by the window and watched the wind blow bits of grass and dirt past the window. The servants were still extracting the dust between the couch cushions and you tried to stay out of the way, but it only made you feel more isolated.

Mattheo was holed up in his office day in and day out. He had now inherited a large portion of his father’s company and Mattheo was determined to uphold the honour bestowed upon him. He had drafted contracts, sold and bought land, and even hosted a few dinner parties for his associates.

You detested the dinner parties. Thankfully, Mattheo had yet to invite you to one - hell, he had yet to speak to you about the dinner parties. You had learned of the first dinner party when you had wandered downstairs one late evening because you were thirsty. You had stared at the group of strangers, all dressed in elegance, as they stared back at you in your night clothes. Not saying a word, you had sighed and returned upstairs.

You hadn’t been eager for the marriage, but wouldn't it befit Mattheo to show some affection? Or at least acknowledge your presence?

While you had continuously tried to get your husband to open up to you, his answers had been short and venomous.

It had been a long, monotonous day for you. You had returned to the master bedroom about two hours earlier than you normally would have if you were at home.

With the wealth that you came from, the opulence was sure to be evident, but you had underestimated the Riddle family’s prestige. When Mattheo had first shown you your shared bedroom, you had to allow a flicker of surprise break through your facade. The bedroom was larger than any room in your old home and had a large bed in the middle. The lamps on the bedside table were always dimly lit and the design of the room was the same as the rest of the house - dark and bereft of love and care.

Your hair had been brushed enough, but you kept brushing simply for something to do while Mattheo finished up in the bathroom. Mattheo walked out of the ensuite with a towel wrapped around his waist. His curls were plastered to his forehead and a bead of water ran down his sternum.

Your eyes flickered to his figure through the mirror, taking in the dips and curves of Mattheo’s muscles as he silently got ready for bed. You tore your gaze away, berating yourself.

You built up your courage and tried to think of a conversation starter. You commented, “my parents wrote to me today.” After no reply from Mattheo, you continued, “they asked me when we would give them grandchildren.” You set your hairbrush down and stared at Mattheo through the mirror, looking for some sort of reaction.

Mattheo hummed noncommittally and put on some sleep pants. He used his towel to begin drying his hair. “It would be behoove us to produce some heirs,” he spoke. His tone was dismissive, as if children were nothing more than an obligation or duty to fulfil.

“Right,” you muttered, knowing that an uninterested reaction was all you were going to get out of him.

You stood and moved towards the bed. “Goodnight,” you whispered, turning off the bedside lamp and tucking yourself into bed. Mattheo was still putting on his nightclothes and had yet to get into bed.

As you turned off the light and got into bed, Mattheo finished drying himself off and slid into his own pyjamas. He sat down beside you, but didn't bother turning off his own lamp. Instead, he laid against the headboard, reading a book. "Goodnight," he finally mumbled, not even looking at you.

You curled into your blanket. After a moment, you asked quietly, “what book are you reading?”

He looked at you over the top of his book. "None of your business," he replied curtly.

You simply uttered, “okay.”

Mattheo felt an unwanted and unusual feeling root itself deep in his stomach. He scoffed and said sarcastically, "fine. Go ahead and keep asking questions all night long if it amuses you so." He opened his book again and pretended to read.

A longing and lonely pang resonated in your chest at his harsh words. You didn’t respond and instead turned your face into your pillow. You had known that your marriage was to be loveless, but it still hurt at every unspoken word. Perhaps, if you had been five years younger when you married Mattheo, your spirit would still be alive with the juvenile belief that you could stand up to him.

Mattheo huffed and his gaze turned up to stare at the wall ahead of him. “If you’re so miserable, then why don’t you just leave?” he snapped, not even bothering to hide his bitterness. “I am sure your family would simply love to have you back.” He flipped another page in his book, not even bothering to look at the printed words.

“I never said I was miserable,” you answered quietly, even though Mattheo knew it wasn’t true. Perhaps, though, you believed it to be true. You took a steadying breath, closing your eyes.

Your husband smirked and leaned against the headboard. “What do you call your attitude, then? Why are you so downtrodden and defeated? Surely, you can’t blame me for being frustrated by it.” He knew that he should be taking account of making you feel this way, but he still tried to justify his behaviour.

“Goodnight,” you reiterated.

Mattheo sighed dramatically. “Whatever,” he grunted. He closed his book, threw it on the nightstand, and turned off his lamp. The room was encased in darkness except for the dim moonlight coming through the window. He shifted towards the edge of the bed, making sure a noticeable gap was between the two of you.

He thought back to your conversation. “Why don’t you just leave?”

It was too late now to apologise.

***

Mattheo let the door swing shut behind him, returning to Riddle Manor after an outing with friends. He glanced around, waiting for a servant to take his coat, but no one answered. An eyebrow cocked, Mattheo slowly walked up the stairs, hearing you instruct the servants on something, every other sentence of yours either containing, ‘please’ or ‘thank you’. Up on the landing, he found you directing a servant who was pulling a rack of your clothing. “What the hell are you doing?” he demanded. “Have you lost your damn mind? Are you trying to send a message or something?”

“You’ve made it perfectly clear that you have no interest in me, so I’m trying to make this marriage as civilised as possible,” you said diplomatically. “I believe that if I move to the West Wing and leave you in the East Wing, it will benefit our marriage.”

“What exactly do you hope to accomplish with this piteous attempt at attention?” he asked rhetorically. “Do you think it’ll make me want you more?” He stuck his tongue in his cheek, grinning incredulously. “You’re delusional if you think that’s even remotely possible.” He stepped closer to you, towering over you with anger in his eyes. “This is not some game, L/n. This is marriage. You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not.”

“I’m aware that we’re married, Riddle,” you retorted. “And don’t refer to me by L/n anymore. I am now a Riddle - just like you. However, I am not going to live in a state of constant sorrow and dejection. Having a wing of the mansion to myself may help.”

Mattheo’s jaw tightened as he stared at you, irritated by your resistance. “Fine,” he growled. “But don’t expect me to come running after you when you decide you want attention. You’re on your own now.” He turned away from you and walked into his now solo bedroom. “Just remember - this is your choice.”

You felt your anger inflate. “I thought you would like this!” Your voice rose and you tugged a hand through your hair. It was the first time in your marriage that you had fought back. “I have done everything I can to please you, yet nothing is enough for you!” Your voice turned desperate. “What do you want from me?”

He stopped in his tracks, turning around with surprise and disgust on his face. “Dammit, Y/n! Don’t yell at me like that!” His voice thundered, stepping towards you. “I never asked for any of this! I didn’t ask for a wife or for you to try so hard to please me! All of this is ridiculous.” His hand slashed through the air to make a point. “All I want is some space. Space to figure out what the hell I want. But let’s make one thing clear: I don’t care about you.”

“Am I not giving you space?” Your fists clenched at your sides. “I am moving out of the bedroom and out of your way. Yet, you erupt at me and get angry over nothing! You send me mixed messages and I don’t know what to do.”

Mattheo took a breath, trying to regain control over his emotions. “I am not erupting! Lord, you are so sensitive!” he snapped, running a hand over his face. “Can’t you listen for once? I am not sending you mixed signals. I am trying to figure out my place in this unorthodox situation we’re in.”

After a beat of silence, you asked firmly, “did you talk about me?” After seeing a flicker of confusion on his face, you clarified, “when you were out with your friends, did you talk about me? Did you rant about how annoying I was? Did you complain about marriage?”

His lips parted before taking a breath. “Yes, I talked about you,” he admitted begrudgingly. “I complained about how frustrating I find you and how frustrated I am with my parents for arranging this senseless marriage.”

“What did they say?” you insisted. “Did they sympathise? Did they laugh at me? Did they add fuel to your fire by commenting about how… how ‘needy’ and ‘sensitive’ I am?”

Mattheo made a low sound in his chest and rubbed his temples, frustrated by your persistence. “They agreed with me, yes. A few believed that you are too emotionally attached and sentimental. Others chalked it up to the pains of an average marriage.”

Your anger flared up and you said, “Let me tell you this: I never wanted marriage either. But I at least tried. I tried to be a nice and loving wife and a kind human.” You turned on your heel, marching out of the bedroom and towards the West Wing.

Mattheo watched you go, an unwanted feeling of guilt washing over him. He sighed and walked over to the window. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “Why is everything so damn complicated?”

For the next couple of weeks, you stayed true to your word. You avoided Mattheo and his office and stayed in your wing of the mansion. After a week or two, you decided to explore the mansion, stumbling upon a magnificent library. You inhaled in veneration when someone cleared their throat. Mattheo stood behind you, raising an brow. After a silence, you said recalcitrantly, “you never told me that Riddle Manor had a library.”

He smirked at your thinly veiled hatred, amused despite himself. “Well, now you know,” he said dryly. “It’s a perk of living in a Riddle household.” He walked over to a bookshelf and began browsing for a book he required for a contract that was being drafting. He showed no sign of embarrassment or discomfort at your presence. “You may use it whenever you want. But don’t expect me to join a book club or anything juvenile.”

“I would never dream of it,” you said sarcastically. You step further into the library and can’t help but gape at the vastness. You trailed your fingers over the book spines, breathing in the smell of old books. You crouched down to examine a series of poetry titles. “I can read any of these?” you asked hesitantly.

He nodded and leaned against the shelf behind him, crossing his arms over his chest. “Feel free to read whatever you would like. They’re here for the entire household. Well, the servants don’t have time to read books, so in a Riddle household, the parents and children use the library the most.” Your hand faltered over the titles. “If you find something that catches your eye, go ahead and take it. I won’t stop you.” There was a hint of curiosity in his voice, as if he wished to know what topics and books piqued your interest. You hummed quietly, not fully acknowledging his words. You were already picking up a book and leafing through it. Mattheo watched you for a moment, his eyes softening briefly.

Everyday, you returned to the library. It was an escape from the walls of your room and the walls that Mattheo had put up around his heart.

Eventually, the servants recognised your routine and began to start a fire in the fireplace to keep you warm. They moved a loveseat in front of the fire that you gratefully used. You devoured the poetry collection, including Shakespeare and Edgar Allen Poe, and started on the classics. Every once in a while, Mattheo would come into the library, but he wouldn’t talk. He simply took a book and returned to his study. Sometimes, you wondered if he remembered you lived in the mansion with him.

Mattheo found himself frequenting the library more often, looking for books he had never needed before. A swell of pride filled him whenever he saw you by the fire, knowing that something in his home brought you such comfort. He still refused to speak to you, maintaining distance and ignoring your existence, but he found himself increasingly drawn to your presence.

One day, on a whim, he decided to take a risk and left a stack of his favourite books on the table next to your chair. That afternoon, you found the stack of books. You smiled despite yourself, though you didn't make any comment to Mattheo. You picked up the first book, sat down in the chair, and began to read.

A week later, Mattheo was hosting a dinner party for his associates. He didn’t say a word about it to you, though you heard the servants preparing for it. You decided not to go, opting to stay in your safe haven of the library.

After an hour or so of faint music, you heard the door to the library squeak open and your head whipped up. You saw one of Mattheo’s friends, Tom, enter and look around. He spotted you and his lips curled up into a smirk. “So you’re the wife we’ve heard so much about?”

Your stomach clenched and you replied, “I guess so.”

Tom’s smirk grew wider as he took in your terse response, enjoying your obvious discomfort. He approached you with a lecherous gaze in his eyes before asking, “and how do you find life as Mrs. Riddle? Are you enjoying your… arrangement?” His words dripped with sarcasm, not believing for a moment that you and Mattheo were married for love.

You stared at him. “It has its perks,” you said simply.

Tom laughed derisively at your response, not convinced by your nonchalance. “And what are those perks?” he asked, moving closer to you. “Extravagant gifts? Luxurious vacations? Or simply the privilege of being married to such a powerful man?”

You squared your shoulders. “I am powerful without a man,” you said sharply. “I do not need a man to determine my worth and prowess.”

Tom scoffed. “Really? How exactly did you become powerful on your own?” he asked, challenging you. “I find it hard to believe that you could ever achieve anything significant without the backing of a powerful husband behind you.” He leaned in closer, grinning.

You closed your book with a snap. “The L/n family,” you said, talking of your maiden lineage, “has had control over many estates and affairs for decades. Without Mattheo Riddle, I would’ve inherited half of it, second only to my brother. I would’ve had four auspicious companies at my ready disposal, capable of doing most anything. So, yes, sir, I would have been momentous without him.”

Tom’s smirk faded as he recognised your family name. He remained undeterred, however, stating, “that explains why your husband was so eager to marry you. He must see you as a valuable asset to his business empire.”

As you opened your mouth to retort, the door banged open and Mattheo strode into the library.

Mattheo had noticed Tom’s absence from his party, but when it became too long to be excused as a restroom break, Mattheo had asked his brother, Enzo, if he had seen where he had gone. Enzo had smiled a small smile and whispered, “Tom went to the library. Where your darling wife stays hidden.”

Mattheo saw red.

He barged into the library, a deadly, lethal, and borderline possessive look deep in his eyes. When he saw Tom flanking you, Mattheo’s expression darkened and his hands clenched into a ready fist. “What the hell are you doing here?” Mattheo demanded, his voice low and dangerous. “This is a private wing of my home - not some place for you to bother my wife.”

Mattheo moved closer to you, placing himself between you and Tom as if to protect you from further harm.

Tom quickly stepped back and placed a confident demeanour on his face. “I was simply having a conversation with your lovely wife here,” Tom gritted his teeth.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, showing clearly that Tom was lying and intruding. You saw Mattheo’s eyes flicker down to you, his eyes softening reassuringly before snapping back to Tom, malice in his gaze.

“Don’t lie to me,” Mattheo snapped at Tom. “There’s no need for any sort of interaction or conversation with my wife unless I am present.” Mattheo placed a hand on the top of your chair, his fingers gripping it and his bicep flexing slightly to warn Tom.

Tom’s eyes flicked with something you hadn’t seen before: fear. Fear commonly associated with the Riddle name. He adjusted his collar and straightened his posture. “Of course, Mr. Riddle,” he said bitterly.

You raised a brow. “I think it’s time for you to go now,” you said, your face stoic. Tom bowed his head slightly before exiting the library. You didn’t look up to meet Mattheo’s eye. You murmured, “you didn’t have to do that. I had it covered.”

Mattheo watched Tom until he completely left the room before turning to look down on you. His voice was threatening, “you may have been able to handle Tom, but I won’t tolerate anyone disrespecting or harassing you while you’re under my roof. Consider this a warning - if anyone tries to cross you again, they will regret it.”

“Perhaps you should tell your coworkers that. Not me,” you replied.

Mattheo’s expression was cold. “Fine. I will,” he growled. “I will not sit idly by and allow anyone to disrespect my wife.” He let go of your chair and adjusted the cuffs of his suit. As if in a business meeting, he said, “And consider this another warning: if you continue to act so stubbornly, I won’t hesitate to remind you of your place in this marriage.”

“My place in this marriage is your wife!” you cried out, finally standing up. “Your equal! Something you seem to forget until it’s convenient for you. Or until another man threatens your… your property! I doubt you see me any differently than this house or your assets.”

Mattheo grabbed onto your arm tightly, pulling you close and leaning down so his face was inches from yours. “Do not ever speak to me like that. You are not my equal - you are my wife and I decide what is best for both of us. If you cannot accept that, then you should reconsider your place in this marriage.” He released your arm and turned away from you, striding towards the door. “I suggest you reflect on your behaviour,” he added icily, leaving the room without looking back.

After he left the library, you let out a scream of frustration. You shoved the pile of books that Mattheo had carefully curated to the floor. They tumbled down, book after book, covers opening and pages bending. Tears pricked at your eyes as you examined the scene.

You slumped into your chair, the fire in front of your crackling softly, emitting a calming warmth.

Eventually, you fell asleep in the chair, tear stains on your cheeks. In the morning, you woke to the serene morning light filtering into the room - a vast contrast to your mood. The fire had dissolved into crackling embers. Tucked on top of you was a thick blanket and the stack of books that you had pushed over had been re-piled and stood majestically atop the table.

You sighed, knowing you should thank the servants for taking care of you and cleaning up.

After you walked to the kitchen, your footfalls heavy, you thanked the servants, who were finishing preparing breakfast. They exchanged glances and one piped up, “Ma’am, while we appreciate the sentiment, we didn’t do that. We weren’t aware that you were still in the library. We believed you had retired to bed before the social last night.” They paused and then added, “however, Mr. Riddle didn’t go to bed. He was in his study until morning light.”

“Oh,” was all you could say. You bid them an awkward goodbye before entering the dining hall.

Mattheo was already seated at the head of the table, his expression exhausted and distant. He didn’t acknowledge you when you approached, focusing instead on the uneaten plate of food in front of him.

You sat down opposite him and muttered, “the servants informed me that you blanketed me last night and cleaned up the books.” You hesitated and finally said, “thank you.”

Mattheo looked up briefly, his expression unreadable, but he didn’t respond directly. “It was necessary,” he said simply. “You should not be cold and uncomfortable in your own home.” He doesn’t make any effort to engage in conversation beyond that. Something was weighing heavily on his mind and he seemed preoccupied by it.

You hummed in response. Eventually, you stood and whispered to your husband before walking out, “you are not as cold as you want to seem. You needn’t keep the facade up with me.”

Mattheo looked up briefly before returning to his food. His expression relaxed, but he didn’t respond.

***

Later that day, Mattheo sat in his study as he always did. A knock came from the door and he glanced at the clock. It was a bit early for lunch to be delivered, but he announced, “come in.”

The door creaked open and your head peeked into the room. Mattheo’s brows furrowed - not with malice, but with scrutiny. You entered and sat in one of the two seats next to his fireplace. Silently, you cracked open a book you had brought and began to read.

Mattheo watched you intently, his gaze never wavering as he took in every detail of your face. He tried to find any acrimonious intent behind your actions, but you looked so peaceful. He found himself noticing the details of your face and your beauty as the fire cast warm highlights on your eyes. “What are you doing?” he asked eventually, his voice holding an armour of needed suspicion.

“Reading,” you said simply.

Mattheo frowned, not convinced by your answer. Why would you read in his study after the way he had been treating you? He leaned back in his chair, his work forgotten. “Isn’t there something more important that you could be occupying your time with?” he challenged.

“Not particularly,” you responded. “You’re in charge of the companies and estates. I have nothing to do. I thought I would accompany you. You must get lonely in a study by yourself.”

Mattheo narrowed his eyes, but ultimately nodded slowly. “Alright,” he agreed after a moment. “But don’t think I will stop working simply because my wife is here.” His posture grew taut as he began looking over documents again. “This is still my office and I expect you to behave accordingly.”

“I’m simply reading,” you murmured, a smile inching its way up your lips.

Henceforth, a routine was established. Every morning, you would knock on Mattheo’s study door, usually an hour or so after he began working. There was rarely conversation, the silence being broken by Mattheo’s scratch of a quill or you turning pages, occasionally being disrupted by the loud crack of a log in the fire.

One day, you had finished your book (it was an excellent book, one from the pile Mattheo had recommended) and stood to go retrieve another one. At the sound of your footsteps leaving his office, Mattheo’s head darted up and he suddenly asked, “where are you going?”

You paused and turned back to him. “I’m to get a new book. Unfortunately, as wonderful as this one was, it had an ending like all books do.”

Mattheo frowned and a hint of vulnerability broke through his exterior. “Get a servant to do it,” he offered.

“Well, I don’t know which one I want,” you counted, raising a brow in a smirk.

He huffed and shook his head, returning his eyes to his documents. He grumbled, “I will commission the servants to build you a small bookshelf for my office. You can keep your books there.” You stood, watching him for a moment, admiring him until his gaze snapped up. “Well, go get your book,” he said sharply. “… but hurry back,” he added in a mumble.

You finally smiled at him before exiting and Mattheo gazed at the place you once stood, trying to memorise how your lips curled up and your eyes crinkled when you smiled.

He rather liked it when you smiled.

***

“Are you alright?”

You sniffed and laughed. “Yes, yes. I’m being foolish.” You wiped some tears from your eyes. “My book is very good.”

Mattheo chuckled lowly. “And what made you cry, hm?”

“A daughter and father interaction,” you replied quietly.

“Was the father cruel to the daughter?” Mattheo laughed tersely, shaking his head at his documents. “Are your feelings not strong enough to withstand their wrath?”

You frowned at Mattheo, setting the book down. “No,” you corrected slowly. “The father was being kind to his daughter. He was supporting her and loving her; as a father should.” There was a pause as Mattheo looked up at you. “I know that the Riddles are a harsher family - I’ve known ever since I knew I was to marry you. But… but are you alright?”

You felt absurd asking the question. Yet, when Mattheo couldn’t meet your eye, a wistful sadness blanketing the room, you felt as if you should’ve asked the simple question weeks earlier.

For a moment, he said nothing. Then Mattheo turned in his chair so his back was facing you. "I'm fine," he finally answered, his voice rough and strained. "I am used to dealing with it, I suppose." Despite his insistence that he didn't need anyone's pity or concern, your words seem to have affected him more deeply than he wanted to admit.

“May I ask a question?” you asked softly.

Mattheo hesitated for a moment before nodding, his eyes never leaving the window as he spoke. "Ask away," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He then cleared his throat and said, "but I won’t give a warm and fuzzy answer."

There was a pregnant pause in the air as you gathered your courage up and suddenly thrust your fears upon your husband. “If we ever have children, which we’re somewhat expected to,” you added hurriedly. “I don’t want them to grow up in a household where they feel as if they have to vie for love or attention. And I don’t want me to be the only one giving them attention.” Mattheo turned his head so his face was angled toward you, but his eyes could still stray to the window if need be. “If we have kids, can you promise that you’ll love them? Even if you don’t love me?”

Even though your voice was steady, Mattheo knew of the vulnerability deeply rooted within you.

He nodded cautiously, his expression serious. "I promise," he said firmly. "I may not love you, but I will love our children unconditionally. They will never have to compete for my affection or feel neglected. I may not be a fond father, but I will provide for them and protect them as best I can." A protectiveness filled his veins just at the thought of something happening to his future children.

You nodded once, a sad smile on your face. “Perhaps we’ll have a big family. Enough children to start a sports team.” You smiled at the thought, laughing lightly.

Mattheo smiled, despite himself, imagining a large brood of children running around the manor. It was an oddly appealing idea, even if he wouldn't admit it out loud. "We'll see," he said noncommittally. "I'd rather have lots of sons; they'll carry on the family name and ensure my legacy continues." He turned back around and attempted to focus on his work.

“And daughters too.” You frowned, staring at your husband, even if he wouldn’t spare you a glance. “Daughters can carry on the family name just as well as sons.” A muscle in your jaw ticked.

Mattheo scowled at your defiance, his eyes narrowing slightly. Why hadn’t you just fallen into line? "Fine, daughters too," he reluctantly agrees. "But make no mistake, they will be raised to be strong and capable like their brothers. The Riddle name demands nothing less."

“And the sons can be soft and caring and sensitive,” you said firmly, crossing your arms. “I thought we agreed that they wouldn’t have to vie for affection. I thought we agreed that they wouldn’t have needless competition in their life. I don’t want them to grow up… like, well… you.” You finally uttered the words that had been hanging off your tongue dangerously.

Mattheo’s expression hardened as he clenched his fist tightly. "Fine!" he snapped. "They can be whatever the hell you want them to be! But don't expect me to sit back and watch while they become weaklings and failures. We need to teach them to be strong and ruthless like I am." He stood up abruptly, knocking over his chair in the process.

You jump up after him, crossing towards him. You whirled to a stop in front of him, jabbing a finger towards his chest. “Listen here, Riddle. Just because someone is kind and vulnerable doesn’t mean they’re weak!” You growled, “and just because you grew up like that, does not mean that’s the type of household I am going to have.”

Mattheo stepped forward and his hand flew up to grip your wrist. His eyes blazed with anger, but then something changed in his expression and he took a step back, looking surprised at his own reaction. "You're right," he admitted begrudgingly. "I shouldn't have assumed that being vulnerable meant being weak." He ran a hand through his hair, looking embarrassed, yet resolute in his decision. "But don't expect me to be a pushover either. I'll still teach them to be strong and independent."

“Strong and independent are good qualities,” you conceded. “Both for the boys and girls.”

"Agreed," he said. Mattheo straightened his cuffs and cleared his throat. "Our children will be taught to be strong and independent, regardless of gender. They will know that they are loved and valued by both of us, equally." He held out his hand to you, indicating that the argument was over - for now at least. "Deal?"

“Deal.” You shook his hand defiantly. It was a business deal, but a good deal at least.

Mattheo exhaled and brushed past you. “I’m to a meeting,” he informed you. It was a simple comment , one that was an offhand remark, but to you, Mattheo had just let you into his life. It was something he had never done before. Even if it was just a response to where he was off to, it was a window into his life. A life that now may have enough room to hold you.

Mattheo paused when he reached the door. “I never knew the way I grew up was wrong until I saw other families. I saw the parents bending down to listen to their children instead of hushing them. I saw parents comforting their children after scraped knees, not pushing them to the kitchen for some rubbing alcohol. I saw parents beaming when their child could plunk out the simplest of tunes on the piano. No one else got berated for being out of rhythm or playing a D instead of an E. I never saw another child get slapped by their parents or scolded as harshly as I was. It was around then I realised that something was wrong. But what was I to do about it?”

Words dried in your throat. You wanted to cry at his words, but you felt dried out. How could someone treat their child like that? It explained so much…

Your husband was a fragile man, you were just realising. And he was trying to pick up the pieces and present them to you in the only way he knew how.

"The stars remind me of you,” he said quietly, the change in conversation sudden. “I mean that in the best possible way.” His voice was the softest and most tender as you had ever heard it. You hoped he would keep speaking the melodies that made your heart sing in tune.

“How so?” you asked, afraid to break the plane of existence that you and Mattheo were carefully standing on.

"They are so beautiful, yet so far away. I may see them, but I can never touch them."

***

The servants didn’t know what to do. The master and mistress, Mr. and Mrs. Riddle, seemed to be at a ceasefire. The cooks lamented at how they had seemed to be doing so well. The maids thought they were destined to doom from the start. The butlers gossiped about Mr. Riddle’s letters to a Mr. Tom, terminating their long-term partnership. The scullery maid still had hope that the husband and wife would come to their senses and live a happy life.

It perplexed the servants when the mistress requested to move her belongings back into the master bedroom and the master looked on, a soft smile on his lips. It confused the servants when the Mr and Mrs began taking meals together and talking in hushed tones late into the night. And it bamboozled the servants when, one summer afternoon, the Lord of the household stood from his desk, cautiously moved to his Lady that was reading by the open window, and asked her to accompany him on a walk. She had accepted.

There was to be a dinner party, this time hosted at Mr. Draco Malfoy’s manor, that Mr. Riddle was expected to attend. Per usual, the master didn’t invite the mistress, but she was content to stay home. A maid briefly heard the madam whisper to her husband, “hurry home, please? I don’t like it when you’re away.” The maid had scurried away before she could hear the reply.

Mattheo returned home that night, just before the sun was setting. He climbed the steps, unbuttoning his cuffs and loosening his tie. The soft glow of light was still shining under your shared bedroom - something he still hadn’t gotten used to - and Mattheo couldn’t help but smile.

“Why are you still up?” he asked quietly when he entered the room.

“You promised to be home early and I wanted to see you before I go to bed,” you reminded him, a small book in your hands.

“Right, right.” Mattheo chuckled and shook his head, slinging off his tie and jacket.

“How was the dinner?”

Mattheo hummed noncommittally. “Not the worst. A couple of my good friends, Theo and Pansy, were there to help alleviate the pain of socialising. But… I found something odd happening.”

“And what was that, husband?” Mattheo took a moment to relish in the way that word curled off your tongue effortlessly.

“I found myself wishing you were there. Nay,” he quickly corrected himself. “I wished I was here with you.”

“Oh?” Your eyes flickered up towards Mattheo, a slight blush coming to your cheeks. “Why… what do you mean by that?”

Mattheo began to unbutton his shirt and moved towards his closet. “Well,” he admitted, mumbling to himself. “I simply mean that instead of having to socialise with people who are too tightly wound and whose only intent is to take my money,” he chucked his belt into his closet and rolled up his sleeves, “I would rather be at home with my darling wife.”

A smile inched up your lips. “Really? Tell me more about this darling wife of yours.”

Mattheo hummed, stepping towards the bed. He crawled down on the bed, leaning on his forearms to lean up towards you. “My wife… I’ve come to care deeply about her. She is a beautiful, elegant woman, one who has a fiery tongue about her and an intelligent brain that even I cannot rival. She always seems to get her way, even when I try to fight back. It’s as if my wife has a command over me that I have willingly submitted to. And I am not ashamed to say so.” He lightly caressed your arm, sending a trail of goosebumps up your skin.

“You must be careful, Mattheo,” you uttered. “That sounds an awful lot like love.”

Mattheo brought his eyes up to meet yours, the sting of tears building up behind them. His voice cracked as he said, “that’s the first time you’ve called me by my name, Y/n.”

Your lips parted in shock. “I- I didn’t realise. I’m sorry-”

“Don’t you dare apologise,” Mattheo demanded before reaching up to pull you into a kiss.

His lips were soft and meaningful against yours, hungrily trying to gather every ounce of love from you. His kisses were feverish at first, his strong hand coming up to cup your jawline, his fingers just teasing behind your ear, before his lips slowed. Mattheo was a starved man and he wouldn’t let anyone take away his only solace. He shifted so he could be closer to you, gently taking the book from your hands as you surrendered yourself to him. Your hands found his silk shirt, gripping it in your fists. He placed the book on the nightstand and moved so he was hovering over you, never once letting a second go by without feeling your skin against his.

Mattheo slowly, achingly pulled away from you and his eyes fluttered open to meet yours. “My darling, my love, my life,” he murmured, dragging a knuckle down your cheek. “I apologise for everything I have ever done or said that made you feel inferior. I would be happy to kneel for you in front of my associates and family members - just to show them how much power you have over me.” He took a breath before persisting, “I was foolish. I was incompetent. I didn’t realise how much love I held for you. It is, and always will be, only you. I will promise you this: you will be the only woman I ever touch, the only voice I ever want to hear, the only skin I will ever caress, and the only eyes I ever want to see. I will wake and fall, every morning and night, thinking of you. You are the other half of my heart, for it is you who I love. I will place the galaxies and stars in the night sky for you. If you are ever unhappy, my love, I will not rest until I see you smile again. If you are ever mad, my love, I shall smite whatever upsets you, even if it is I. And I would die a happy man if you could give me only an ounce of what I give you.”

Your breath shook and you swore Mattheo had injected ambrosia into your veins for you were sure your blood was singing with the love that was filling your soul. “I wrote a letter to your mother today,” you offered quietly, as if your mere words could ever compare to the love poem Mattheo had just gifted to you. “And I thanked her.” Mattheo’s eyes flashed with confusion. You continued, “I thanked her for birthing such a wonderful husband and for raising him. I know you u wish to renounce your family, but as of now, I want to thank them with all my heart. Mattheo, I love you.”

“And I you,” Mattheo whispered, bringing his forehead down to rest on yours. His nose bumped against your cheek and he couldn’t contain his grin anymore. “How did I ever get so lucky?” he mumbled.

You laughed lightly. “Luck? Fate?”

Mattheo shook his head and his nose brushed light curves over your skin. “No, my wife. Simply love. Pure, unconditional love.”

***

The house was bright, the curtains pulled as far open as they could be. Some servants scuttled around, holding laundry or preparing for dinner. Meanwhile, Mattheo strode leisurely through the halls, smiling lovingly as his nephews chased each other through the halls. “What do I say, boys?” he called after them.

“Have fun, be safe, and don’t get caught!” they yelled back before running around a corner.

Enzo jogged after them and grumbled to Mattheo, “it’s not your duty to rule them up.”

“As their favourite uncle, yes, it is.”

“Your wife is in Andromeda’s room,” Enzo told his brother before sprinting off after his sons. Enzo wasn’t usually at Riddle Manor, but today was a special day. It was Orion’s birthday.

Mattheo chuckled to himself before Orion raced up the steps, panting. “Papa! Papa!”

Mattheo grinned widely and scooped Orion up. “Are you alright, hm? What’ve you been up to?”

“Aunt Pansy’s carriage just pulled up!” Orion bounced in Mattheo’s arms, beaming.

“And you’re not even dressed,” Mattheo stared at Orion, pretending to be stunned. “Where’s your mother, Ori?”

“She’s helping Andy get dressed,” Orion announced. Mattheo nodded and carried his son to his daughter’s room. “Mum!” Orion cried out, seeing Y/n standing behind Andromeda, knotting her hair into a braid.

“Oh, my darling,” Y/n tied Andy’s hair up before crossing to Mattheo and taking Orion from his arms. “Are you excited for your birthday?”

Orion hummed excitedly and wiggled down from Y/n’s arms. He darted to Andromeda and wrapped himself around her in a tight hug. Andromeda grumbled, but allowed him to cling to her as she finished her hair and rouge.

Mattheo took Y/n’s hand and pulled her back toward him, nudging his nose against hers. “Look at that,” he murmured, reaching down to play with the silver and green ring on your finger. “Mine.” He pressed a kiss to your temple. Slowly, as to not arouse suspicion from your children, he backed you up and caged you against the wall in his arms. “Seven years with you and two beautiful children to show for it.”

“Hey, mum? Where’s my- eugh!” Andromeda turned around and reeled back from the scene in front of her. “For the love of Salazar, please get a room!”

“We are in a room.” Mattheo smirked, glancing up from the crook of your neck.

“Aren’t you two, if I'm doing my calculations correctly, nearing thirty years old?” Andromeda tsked and rolled her eyes.

“You believe that simply because we’re getting older, I’m going to stop loving your mother?” Mattheo chuckled before pressing a light kiss to your jawline.

You shivered and tucked your face into your husband’s chest. “Matty, spare the poor children,” you chastised lightly. “What do you need, darling?” you turned towards Andromeda.

“You used to call me that,” Mattheo whined. He stepped back from you, letting you out of his embrace.

Andromeda sighed and asked, “where is my white shawl? It’ll go well with the dress I’m planning to wear to Orion’s party.”

“Why does it matter what you wear to Orion’s party?” Mattheo asked, puzzled.

“Because Albus Potter is going to be here,” you said as if it were obvious.

“Harry Potter’s son?” Mattheo asked incredulously. “That scumbag?”

Both you and Andromeda ignored Mattheo and Orion left the room at the sound of Aunt Pansy entering the foyer and shouting out for her favourite nephew.

“Your shawl should be in the library,” you answered. “Ori was using it as a blanket yesterday.”

Andromeda sighed and turned towards the door. “He needs to stop taking my things. Just last week he stole my candelabra so he could read in the dark. Perhaps you should accelerate his schooling. He’s getting bored, you know.”

“We’ll raise our own son, thank you, Andromeda,” Mattheo raised a brow. Andy huffed and and flicked her dress out behind her dramatically, exiting the room. Mattheo turned to you and said, “they get that from you. The love of reading.”

“Yes, but they get their flair for the dramatics from you. And lest us not forget, you keep fuelling our love of literature by buying more books and expanding our library,” you countered.

Mattheo hummed. “‘Tis true. But how could I live without spoiling my wife and children?” He whirled you around in his arms and pressed a long kiss to your lips. “Speaking of children, what would you think of expanding our family?”

You let out a laugh. “You simply like the act of making a bigger family.”

“I love my children too,” Mattheo defended.

You reached up and brushed some of his hair away from his face. “Yes you do,” you smiled up at him. “You love your family very much.”

“Always.”

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moonlinos · 1 month

Text

It’s so tasty, come and chase me

♡ Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin × fem!reader

♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of food

♡ Word count: 2.3k

♡ Synopsis: It’s your first birthday with Hyunjin as your boyfriend, and he wants to give you the best day since you were born. He racks his brain, wondering what’s the perfect way to impress you, and ultimately settles on surprising you with a homemade birthday cake. That’s romantic, right? Too bad you accidentally ruin his plans in the best way possible.

♡ A/N: Based off a request by anon (happy birthday! 🩷) Title from Red Velvet’s Ice Cream Cake bc we all know that song ain’t about cake. I quickly wrote this to try and get out of my writing slump, and I think it worked lol so I’ll hopefully be able to start posting other longer stories and requests in a couple of weeks 🧚‍♀️

You and Hyunjin began dating exactly two hours after your birthday.

Being acquaintances for long due to being in the same friend group, he’d been a part of your birthday celebrations for a few years. But you were never really that close — he’d always been too shy to approach you, and you spent an awfully long time thinking he hated your guts. It was a drunken confession that made you both realize the mutual crush you had been hiding for far too long.

Hyunjin cursed himself inwardly for taking so long to properly ask you out. He sat with your friends and discussed birthday plans with you, then watched as you enjoyed your surprise party. He had a pout on his lips throughout the entire night, desperately wishing he could openly hold and kiss you in front of your friends. The silly secret you both had decided to keep from them until things were official between you drove him to the brink of insanity. You two were skirting around the big question for a while, and it wasn’t until Hyunjin’s veins were flowing with quite a lot of Soju that he finally mustered up the courage to do it.

Only he was too late — it was already 2 a.m, and no longer your birthday.

“You’ll have to put up with me for another year if you really wanna be my boyfriend on my birthday,” you told him with a grin.

Hyunjin was determined to make your first birthday together as a couple unforgettable, even through simple gestures. These two days were incredibly meaningful to him; the day you were born and the day he finally got to call you his, one after the other.

Too bad the universe seems to love conspiring against him.

He put on his best near-death voice and faked coughs over the phone, trying to convince you he was sick. You were understandably worried, but he assured you he would be fine after taking some medicine. He needed alone time to figure out how to bake a cake, and your presence would be a tempting distraction.

Hyunjin was halfway through frosting your cake for the third time when the sound of his door being unlocked made him jump.

Perhaps it wasn’t the universe’s animosity towards him after all, but rather his own stupidity for not remembering that you had the code to his door lock.

He stood there motionless, feeling like a teenager who had been caught doing something wrong, his hand clutching the spatula tightly as you eyed him with confusion. You raised a brow at him.

“Weren’t you dying?”

“Why are you here?” Hyunjin all but whines, and you close the door behind you with a chuckle.

“I’m here because you told me you were dying,” you explain. “Why the fuck are you frosting a cake?” He doesn’t answer, and after a beat and a half, you grasp the situation and your mouth falls open. “It’s for my birthday, isn’t it?”

Hyunjin drops the spatula on the counter with a loud clink. “No.”

“Shut the fuck up.” You grin at the sight before you. “That’s so cute.”

“It’s not for your birthday,” He insists, promptly removing his apron. “I lost a bet and owe Seungmin a cake.”

You roll your eyes. “Hyunjin, you’re a terrible liar.”

“Fine,” He grumbles, glaring at the lumpy, messy frosting spread on the cake. He was so sure he was nailing it this time, but the more he looks at it, the more it looks borderline inedible. “I wanted to surprise you, be like super boyfriend material and bake your birthday cake myself. Turns out I’m fucking awful at it.”

“It’s not that bad…” Your voice trails off, the telltale rise in pitch whenever you lie betraying you. Hyunjin shoots you a glance, narrowing his eyes. “Okay, so it is a little crooked, and the frosting is a bit clumpy but I can fix that—”

He cuts you off, drawing out your name with a pout. “No, I’m the one who’s supposed to make you a pretty cake. It’s your special day, I should be the one doing things for you.”

“It’s not my birthday till midnight,” you argue, tossing your bag onto the floor and gently nudging Hyunjin to the side, making room for you on his counter. “Let me help.”

You take the spatula in your hands, ignoring Hyunjin’s loud protests and trying your best to smooth out the thick layer of frosting Hyunjin had spread onto the cake. Your brows knit together in concentration as your boyfriend continues to grumble beside you, eventually moving his nagging to the counter behind you. You hear the water running and the clinking of dishes as you finally start making progress, before Hyunjin’s hands are gripping your hips and pushing you against the counter.

You furrow your brows, ready to complain about him disrupting you, but he’s pressing his lips to your neck before you can mutter out a word. Hyunjin’s breath as he mumbles against your skin tickles you, your body instinctively jolting, causing your hand to slip and mess up the frosting (again).

“Hyunjin,” you berate him, and his only response is to hum. “This frosting is already borderline unusable, if you—”

“Hey!” He snaps, and you can hear the pout on his voice. “Don’t insult my frosting.”

“Then stop disrupting me.”

Hyunjin shakes his head, his body pressing against yours.

“You’re the one who ruined my surprise,” he corrects you, “So if you wanna decorate this cake so badly, you’ll have to do it while I disrupt you,” he mimics your voice. You roll your eyes while a huff of amusement slips from your lips.

“Be my guest,” you shrug.

Hyunjin simply buries his face in the crook of your neck, his lips curling into a grin against your skin and igniting a smile on your own face. You bite the inside of your cheek, turning your focus back to the disastrous cake. But your smile only widens at the sight of the decorations thrown around on the countertop; heart-shaped sprinkles, various candles and your favorite candies. The image of Hyunjin clumsily following a recipe, his pretty face dusted in flour, making frosting from scratch simply to make your birthday cake more special has your heart swelling with love.

But just as you spread more frosting on the cake, your concentration is shattered by the sudden touch of Hyunjin’s hand sliding under your skirt and into your panties.

“Excuse me?”

“I told you I was gonna disrupt you,” he shrugs, pressing a chaste kiss to your shoulder. “But I’m sure it won’t work. You’re too focused on the cake, anyway.”

You scoff. Hyunjin really is such a menace when he wants to be — no wonder you spent such a long time thinking he hated you. Little did you know that behind his teasing and cold exterior lay such a sweet and sensitive man.

He remained still for a while, his hand nonchalantly cupping your cunt while he watched you try your best to make the cake look presentable.

“You missed a spot,” he points out, one single finger gliding along your folds. You hiss.

“Fuck off.”

Hyunjin chuckles, the digit now teasing your already slick entrance. You wait for a minute, then two, then three, but he remains still. Tightening your hold on the spatula, you buck your hips toward his hand, willing him to do something.

But he doesn’t, resting his chin on your shoulder with a lazy sigh instead.

“Is this your best attempt at disrupting me?”

He hums. “Focus on the cake, baby. Weren’t you so excited about fixing it?”

You can tell he is undoubtedly a bit upset at you. This cake was his birthday surprise to you, after all. You had essentially fucked it up, taking over the task without him even asking you for help.

So you nod slowly, turning your face to shoot him a small smile. “Can you help me? It’ll be better if we do it together.”

A grin tugs at the corner of his lips, and his finger finally pushes into you, your walls immediately clenching around it.

“I’d love to help you.”

With his other hand, Hyunjin scrambles with the sprinkles packet before finally tearing it open. Cursing under his breath, he watches some of the red and pink hearts escape from the packaging and scatter across the counter. You’re ready to tease him, but a moan swallows your voice as his finger curls inside you, pressing against the spot that has you almost dropping the spatula onto the cake.

Your hands grip the counter as another finger slips inside of you, then a third, all while Hyunjin casually dusts a handful of sprinkles over the white frosting. You could feel yourself leaking around his fingers, the heel of his palm grazing over your clit, and your vision goes slightly blurry watching how the heart shapes cascade from his hand onto the cake.

“I think those candies would look nice with the sprinkles, don’t you think?” Hyunjin asks, his breath brushing against the shell of your ear, causing goosebumps to ripple across your entire body. You simply nod, too focused on the way his fingers stretch you, igniting a wildfire inside your chest with each pump of his wrist. “Could you grab the bag for me, baby?”

You nod and mindlessly reach out in front of you, until your eyes land on the bag sitting across the counter, just barely out of reach. You stretch out your fingers, but Hyunjin circles your waist with his left arm and pulls you flush against his body before you can get a hold of it.

“Hyunjin,” you whine, feeling the warmth of his chest as it rumbles against your back with a chuckle.

“Grab the bag for me, hm?”

You let out a shuddering breath and reach out toward the candy package, your body bending over the marble counter, the thick outline of Hyunjin’s cock pressing against your ass. As soon as your trembling fingers wrap around the bag, his hand leaves your cunt and pushes your soaked panties to the side.

He slides his length along your folds, hovering over your body, the swollen head of his cock catching against your clit evoking a heavy sigh from your lips.

“Go on,” Hyunjin prompts, “Let’s finish decorating your cake.”

Clumsily, you pull yourself up, forearms resting against the counter as you tear the bag open. With shaky hands, you slowly tip the bag over, lightly sprinkling the colorful candies across the cake. Until Hyunjin rolls his hips forward, plunging into you. Your breath catches in your throat as he fills you with his thick length, pumping into you in full force, causing your body to writhe in his arms and sending candies flying out of the bag, scattering across the cake and countertop.

“Fuck, Hyunjin,” you grunt when his hand slides down your body to trace circles around your swollen clit. “The ca- the fucking cake.”

Hyunjin lets out a hearty laugh before pressing his lips to your neck, sucking the skin between his teeth, each thrust of his hips slamming your body against the counter. Your eyes flutter closed, a haze of lust wrapping around you while your climax ripples through your body. Hyunjin shudders as your cunt clenches around him, squeezing as he hastily rams into you, his grip on your waist tightening with each stroke.

“Gonna come,” he rasps in your ear, grabbing a handful of your hair and tugging your head back to look at him, his eyes completely clouded over. “Where do you want it?”

“Inside,” you whimper, barely registering the way your fingers graze across the forgotten cake when you feel his cock twitch at your words. He mutters a string of curses through clenched teeth before flooding you with his warmth.

You slowly catch your breaths, Hyunjin pressing light kisses across your face with a contented hum as his cock slowly softens inside of you.

And then both your eyes land on the cake.

Somehow, the sprinkles melted, leaving behind a garish kaleidoscope of colors, and the candies adorned more of Hyunjin’s counter than the cake itself. The already sloppy-looking cake had three lines running across it, and the sticky white frosting clinging to your fingertips serves as undeniable evidence of your guilt. You grimace, mentally bracing yourself for the disappointed look in Hyunjin’s eyes.

Instead, his loud laughter you love so much echoes in your ears.

“That’s so fucking ugly,” he slurs between giggles.

You frown, turning to look at him, watching tears gather in his lashes as his laughter slowly fades away. He presses a kiss to your agape lips, wrapping both arms around your body before resting his forehead against yours.

“I love it,” he assures you after taking in your befuddled expression. “We made it together. Plus, we had a lot of fun doing it, yeah?” He grins before crashing his lips against yours again.

Your birthday party was the same as it has been for a couple of years; just you and your friend group gathered around your apartment’s rooftop. Except this year, you had the pleasure of watching people’s bewildered looks as they glanced at your birthday cake, proudly displayed on a plastic folding table.

“The fuck is that cake?” Jeongin asked, and Hyunjin burst out laughing as soon as the words left your friend’s lips.

After singing happy birthday, you were surprised to find that the cake — although an assault on the eyes — tasted quite good. You were quick to praise Hyunjin, who sheepishly admitted to using a store-bought box cake mix.

A while later, you two discreetly escaped the chatter and laughter from your friends. While you watched the stars, Hyunjin’s attention was fixated on the passing seconds on his phone. He counted down from five, and at the stroke of midnight, he pressed his lips to yours, smiling into the kiss.

“Happy one year together,” he whispered against your lips.

“Congratulations for putting up with me,” you beamed, and Hyunjin feigned an exasperated sigh, his lips curling into a grin.

“Can’t believe I’ll have to go through that again if I want to be your boyfriend on your birthday next year.”

♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist, @jazziwritesthings, @seungseung-minmin, @yourcvndx, @hynjinnnnnnnie, @vlctorriaa, @yongbokkiesworld, @kiensecent, @redstayrosie, @binniesbabygirl, @pynchkilledme

#stray kids #hyunjin smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin #hyunjin x you #stray kids smut #skz #hyunjin fluff

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haddonfieldwhore · 4 months

Text

offline - vince dunn

streamer!vince dunn x reader

summary: everyone in vince’s chat thinks he’s in love with you, which makes hiding your relationship interesting

warnings: a few uses of y/n, i think that’s it. not too proud of this one

word count: 0.9k

“bluepanda2, thank you for the 5 gift subs,” you heard vince say into his microphone as you passed by his streaming room. he had been on for nearly 4 hours already, and while you were used to the long streams he did by now, nearly six months into your relationship, you did still get impatient waiting for his attention sometimes. you had been friends with vince for a few years, having met through a mutual friend and staying in touch via text, until one day he gained the courage to ask you out, and here you were now. knowing the stress that the public eye could put a lot of stress on a new relationship, you had both decided it would be best to keep your romance a secret, at least for the first little while. months had gone by and some people were suspicious, and some people just wanted it to happen from the few times you had appeared on or been mentioned in streams.

you didn’t always watch his streams, honestly not having the time to some days, and also feeling like you were spying on him sometimes when you did. but tonight you found yourself missing the man who was just up the stairs from you, and curled up on the couch in his living room with the stream pulled up on your phone.

“guys i’m gonna wrap things up soon. i have a friend coming over so i have to hop off early tonight,” he explained.

- is it y/n?

- i bet it’s y/n

- ^^ i wish they would stream together again

“maybe one day y/n will come over and come on the stream again. i’ll ask them.” vince smiled, reading the chat.

- he’s blushing!!!

- dunner is in love <3

- //youtube link - vince simping compilation//

- are you two dating yet?

- ^^ they’re just friends

- ^^ sure they are lol

"chat, i need you to stop linking clips about me crushing on y/n," he laughed, the crinkles by his eyes on full display, along with the dimple in his cheek that you loved so much. “we’re just friends.”

you smiled as you watched your boyfriend interact with his viewers, knowing how much they meant to him. hopefully one day soon you would be able to tell them the truth, but you both weren’t ready yet. vince wrapped up the stream, and you shut your phone off as you heard his footsteps coming down the stairs.

“hey, you’re offline early today,” you smiled as he flopped onto the couch next to you. “how was the stream today?”

“it was good. did you watch any of it?” he asked.

“i just caught the last couple minutes,” you smiled mischievously. “you know, when everyone was saying how much you love me.”

“hmmm,” he hummed, pulling you close and kissing your lips softly. “they’re right.”

“do you think we should tell them soon?” you asked, and he shrugged.

“i want to,” he ran his hand over his face. “i just know how people can be. and once it’s out there we can’t take it back, you know?”

“yeah, i get it. for now i’m happy having you all to myself,” you smiled, pulling on his arm until he laid on top of you, his head resting on his chest. your fingers ran through his curls, the soft locks slightly matted down from wearing his headset for so long.

“did you miss me or something?” he teased, and you flicked his forehead with your finger.

“yes, actually,” you pouted, and he laughed as he crawled further on top of you, his hands on either side of your head as his body hovered above yours.

“baby if you want my attention, you just have to ask,” he said sweetly, kissing you again.

“another quote that would get added to the compilation video?” you teased.

“definitely,” he smiled, and it was you that kissed him this time, hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him down. his teeth played with your bottom lip as you felt more of his weight on top of you.

“are you tired, vin?” you asked, and he nodded, laying fully on top of you now and burying his face in the crook of your neck. you giggled as he kissed your neck, his stubble tickling against your skin. “vince-“ you whined as he nipped at the skin softly, his hands on your waist, fingertips sliding just under the hem of your sweater. he only hummed in response as he left wet kisses up to your jaw. his lips finally traveled up to your again for one more kiss, before he sat up.

“i’m sorry i never pay enough attention to you,” he said, and you shook your head.

“it’s okay, i’m just being clingy,” you laughed. it honestly wasn’t an issue, there were just some nights you wanted to be close to him when you couldn’t. “maybe i could hang out with you on stream again soon, if the viewers are okay with it.”

“sure, you can tomorrow night if you want,” he said, and a devilish smile tugged at his lips.

“why are you making that face?” you asked nervously and he laughed.

“no reason,” he laughed, before pointing at your neck.

“but if you’re going to be on the stream, we’re gonna have to hide that hickey.”

•

prompt @novvasdreamscape

disclaimer: all screenshots, events, and/or interactions depicted in this are a work of fiction. i have no association with any parties mentioned

#i hate this actually #vince dunn fic #vince dunn x reader #vince dunn imagine #vince dunn #seattle kraken #seattle #seattle kraken fic #nhl #kraken nhl #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl players #real person fiction #hockey fic #hockey #hockey imagine

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atypicalamortentia · 6 months

Text

My Girl || Draco Malfoy

Synopsis - You and Draco have a secret love affair, which all becomes public when he sees you upset in the corridors of Hogwarts.

Warnings - SFW.

Word Count - 0.5k.

[Caffeinate Me]

Draco Malfoy had fallen for you, absolutely and totally head over heels. It didn’t matter what house you were in and it didn’t seem to matter that you were Harry Potter’s sister. None of it mattered. What mattered is that you felt the same way and so, your secret love affair with Draco began.

You were currently walking down the halls of Hogwarts, books close to your chest and tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. You weren’t looking ahead as you walked, instead you were staring at the floor barely manoeuvring through the sea of students. When Draco saw you, his eyes lit up, but he was with his friends. Despite this, he knew he needed to interact with you in some way. “Potter,” he sneered. You ignored him, not up for playing games right now. You shoved past him which left him almost speechless. “Hey, Potter. I’m talking to you,” he called out to you, but you continued walking. Draco saw you wipe your eyes and immediately his heart clenched: you were upset. All thoughts of his image went out of the window as he raced up to you, grabbing your arm and turning you around to face him. “Y/N… What’s wrong?” Draco’s voice held a large amount of care and concern as he spoke to you now. You looked up at him, tears brimming in your lower lash line and just shook your head. “Talk to me.”

“He… He tried to kiss me!” You said quickly, finally allowing the tears to fall from your eyes.

“Who?” Draco asked, his eyes narrowing with fury. “Who tried to kiss you?”

“McLaggen,” you hiccuped. “He cornered me against the wall and tried to kiss me.”

“I’ll kill him,” Draco growled, eyes darting around the room to see if he could see the man in question.

“Draco don’t,” you said quickly.

“Nobody touches my girl and gets away with it,” he snapped, his hands flying to your face to cup your cheeks. “I’ll make him regret ever looking at you.”

You started into his eyes, seeing the pure anger in them. He was serious, deadly serious. “Don’t get yourself into any trouble,” you whispered.

“You’re worth getting into trouble for,” Draco smiled softly, his thumb stroking your cheek gently and wiping the tears that fell from your eyes.

“You mean that?” You asked hopefully.

“Of course I mean that.”

You leaned into Draco’s touch not realising that you had amassed a large number of students watching the tender moment between the two of you, including Draco’s friends. They were confused to say the least. Draco leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to your lips, smiling as he did. He didn’t seem to care that others were watching, he just wanted to make sure that you were okay. You kissed him back eagerly, enjoying the feeling of his soft lips on yours. When he pulled away he chuckled slightly. “What are you laughing at?” You asked quizzically.

“You taste salty,” was all he replied. His hands were still cupping your cheeks. “Seriously though,” Draco said, his tone turning sincere once more. “Nobody, and I mean nobody, touches you and gets away with it.”

“I love you Draco Malfoy,” you whispered, pressing your forehead against his.

“I love you too, Y/N Potter.”

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x mc #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy oneshot #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy oneshots #draco malfoy one shots #harry potter draco #harry potter draco malfoy #malfoy #draco #malfoy x reader

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fxrmuladaydreams · 7 months

Text

i didn’t miss it (ln4)

lando norris x reader , oscar piastri x reader (platonic)

summary: lando nearly misses out on wishing his crush a happy birthday

notes: we’re going to say that the reader works for mclaren for convenience sake but i’ll let you decide exactly what the job is

Lando, with the help of Oscar, had everything planned down to a T. After months of pining for you, of sending you longing looks in the paddock, of making sure that he could take his lunch around the same time you took yours just so he could eat with you, of practically stalking your social media, of staying longer at McLaren at night so he could “conveniently” be there to walk you to your car, he was finally going to confess his feelings to you.

Oscar was proud. Well, he was happy he wouldn’t have to hear Lando drone on and on about you anymore. He liked you just fine, but Lando was very clearly head over heels for you.

It was strange seeing Lando act this way. Oscar had heard that Lando was a bit of an introvert, but he had never really experienced it firsthand. He had always been a friend to Oscar, an older brother type. Then there were his relationships with the other drivers, Lando was quite popular, half the grid claimed he was their best friend. But as soon as you were anywhere near the older McLaren driver all of that went out the window. He turned into a shy, blushing boy, who fidgets with his fingers and can’t seem to look you in the eyes for longer than a minute.

Birthdays were a big celebration at McLaren. Lando’s and Oscar’s were usually met with loud fanfare and cameras so that the fans could see the drivers celebrating. But even all of the other members of the team had parties when it was their birthday, complete with a cake, a rousing chorus of an off-key happy birthday, and essentially a break in the usually chaotic workday.

Lando had your birthday marked down. It was in the calendar on his phone, there were little doodles around the date on the calendar in his house, he even had a reminder set for it just to make sure he wouldn’t forget.

The plan was simple really, you would have your little McLaren party at work, then go out to a nice dinner with Lando and Oscar. Oscar would stay for a little while but eventually excuse himself for not feeling well, leaving you alone with Lando. He was going to use the romantic atmosphere to confess his feelings, and hopefully you’d tell him that you felt the same and within the week you would be the paddock’s new favorite couple.

What Lando hadn’t expected was to wake up late that morning, rushing to get ready in an attempt to get to work on time, not sparing the calendar on his wall a glance. He didn’t expect his meetings to run longer than expected, pushing his time on the simulator back as well.

You found him hunched over a table in the break area, quickly scarfing down a wrap.

“Hey Lando, are you okay?” You ask, sitting down next to him.

He wipes the crumbs away from his mouth with a napkin, then looks over to you. “Yeah, I’m good, just, busy day, you know?”

You smile, sure he’s alluding to the fact that it’s your birthday. You’re about to bring up how much you’re looking forward to dinner with him and Oscar as he stands up and starts gathering his trash.

“I have to go get some laps done on the sim, but I’ll see you later, yeah?” He doesn’t wait for a reply before leaving you alone with your lunch.

You feel giddy as you’re led from your work area in the afternoon to the lobby area of the building. The lights are low as you walk in, and the brightness when they’re turned on is close to blinding.

You grin as McLaren employees all give a resounding “Happy Birthday!” shout, but your heart sinks a little when you search for the familiar head of curls and only manage to find Oscar who gives you a small smile.

He finds you later in the gathering, pulling you aside to talk privately.

“Happy birthday Y/n.” He says, pulling you into a hug.

You return the hug, wrapping an arm around his frame. “Thank you Oscar.”

When you pull away there’s a moment of awkward silence. You’re close to both the drivers, your job requires that you be, but you were arguably closer to Lando than Oscar.

“I don’t know where he is, I’m sorry.”

You don’t have to ask to know that he’s referring to his teammate. You plaster on a smile and shrug your shoulders.

“It’s alright. If he’s busy, he’s busy. I’ll see him at dinner.”

“Definitely.” Oscar nods.

While you were downstairs eating cake, Lando was upstairs, completely unaware, driving lap after lap in the sim. Music blared in his ears coming from his headphones that he’d put on, in hopes that it would help him concentrate and get some good lap times.

He was doing well, practicing on the Singapore track over and over until his music cut out. He finished his lap, then looked down at his phone. The screen was dark, and didn’t turn on when he’d pressed any buttons. Great, his phone had died.

He took that as a sign that he’d spent enough time working. He logged his final times, then gathered his things and headed towards his car.

The parking lot was nearly empty, most everyone having already gone home for the day. A few stragglers left as well, wishing him a goodnight.

As soon as he’d made it home, he threw himself down on his bed. He was exhausted after having run around like a headless chicken all day from meeting to meeting to meeting to sim practice. He felt like he could sleep for a week.

He reached for his phone, plugging it into it’s charger before he lets his head fall back against the pillow and lets sleep consume him.

The restaurant that the drivers were meant to bring you to is nice, overtly so. It’s dimly lit, the servers all wear matching vests and ties, and the clientele are equally as dressed up.

Oscar sits across from you, an awkward smile resting on his face. He looks uncomfortable, his eyes constantly dart between the door to the restaurant and his phone in his lap. He sighs as he types something out on his phone, then looks back up at you.

He opens his mouth to say something, but you beat him to it.

“He’s not coming, is he?” You ask.

Oscar gives you an apologetic smile. “I can’t get a hold of him.”

You can feel a tightening feeling in your chest as you shake your head. “That’s okay. We can still have a nice dinner.”

You try to make the most of your meal, talking with Oscar about the season so far and the upcoming races. You tell him about fun things you’ve done in the upcoming cities, usually accompanied by Lando and Daniel back when he was still at McLaren.

You leave the restaurant with Oscar, giving him a quick hug and a thank you before you separate to your cars.

Once home you change into your pajamas and lay down in bed. You check your phone and see happy birthday texts from various people, even some drivers from other teams. You scroll to your messages with Lando, and sigh when you see nothing.

You didn’t expect anything big from him, you had just hoped for at least a text from him. Maybe an apology for missing out on your party at the office and for ditching you at dinner.

Lando awoke to an incessant dinging sound coming from his phone. He groaned, and rolled over, trying to go back to sleep, but his phone would not stop sounding off.

He slung his arm over to grab it, and looked at all of the notifications he had.

7 missed calls from Oscar

23 new messages

He furrowed his brows as he opened his texts. There were two texts from Max.

Did you do it?

I’m going to assume you did it and it went well if you’re too busy to text back

Then 21 messages from Oscar, the first few from that afternoon.

Are you coming down soon?

Where are you?

Party’s over, I guess we’ll see you at dinner

Then more from this evening.

Seriously man where are you?

Are you on your way?

When did you leave the office?

The varying texts all have essentially the same message, until he reads the most recent three.

We had a plan

She’s trying to put on a brave face but I know she wants to see you

You’ve been missing all day and now you don’t show up to dinner?

Dinner. He can practically feel his heart in his throat. He checks his calendar on his phone, and there on today’s date, in all uppercase lettering it says “Y/N’S BIRTHDAY”

He scrambles out of bed, grabbing a hoodie, and runs for the door. He throws himself in his car and speeds to your house. He’s surprised he isn’t pulled over by anyone on the way there.

He sprints from his car to your front door, knocking a little too aggressively for someone showing up at your apartment in the pitch black night.

Your heart startles at the loud knock on your door. You slowly make your way too it, then look through the peephole. Lando stands outside, fidgeting with his hands as he waits for you to answer the door.

You open it, giving him a questioning look. “Lando?”

“Happy birthday!” The words tumble out of his mouth as soon as he sees you.

“What?”

He looks down at his phone, the time reading 11:57 pm. “Happy birthday. I didn’t miss it.” He holds his phone up so you can see the time.

“Thank you Lando. Did you drive all the way over here just to tell me happy birthday? You know you could’ve just sent me a text…” You tell him.

He’s at a loss for words, he knows he could’ve, but it wouldn’t have been the same. He’d already ruined what was meant to be a special night, he couldn’t possibly imagine not really seeing you at all today.

“Do you want to come in? I’ve got some leftover cake from the party.” You step to the side when he nods.

He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he steps inside your apartment. He follows you as you lead him to the kitchen, pulling out the cake you had mentioned.

Most of it is missing. He can see the left side of the McLaren logo with letters that read “Hap Birt” and the first few letters of your first name. You hand him a slice and a fork.

The two of you eat the cake quietly on opposite sides of the kitchen, unsure of what to say to the other. The silence is only broken when Lando takes a breath, then starts speaking.

“I’m sorry for missing your party. And dinner.”

You stop eating the cake and shrug your shoulders. “It’s okay. There will be other parties, other dinners.”

Lando scoffs. “Right.” He stabs at the cake with his fork, just moving it around his plate.

“What’s wrong?” You ask.

He doesn’t answer, doesn’t even look up at you. You step over to him and lean against the counter.

“Lando, what’s wrong?”

He sighs. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

You brush a hand over his arm. The soft orange fabric bunches up a little against your hand as you feel the toned muscle in his bicep.

“I don’t believe you. You know you can tell me what’s wrong. It’s just me.” You say.

Your voice is sweet, and is close to lulling him into a sense of security, but then he remembers how tonight should’ve gone.

“That’s the problem. It’s you. And I’ve somehow managed to fuck it all up.” He groans, dropping his head into his hands.

“What do you mean?”

He looks up at you. You can see unshed tears start to form in the soft blue eyes you love. It takes everything in you to not lean forward and softly wipe them away.

“Tonight was supposed to be special. I was going to celebrate with you, then go to dinner with you. But instead I had a shit day where I was so busy that I completely forgot what day it was. So I missed the party, and I didn’t even show up to dinner, so Oscar couldn’t leave and-”

“Why would Oscar leave?”

Your question makes him freeze. His mouth opens and closes as if he’s searching for something to say, but just can’t seem to find the right words.

He stutters, then asks “What?” as if he didn’t hear your question.

“Lando, why would Oscar leave?” You ask him again, this time slowing your words down.

He runs a hand through his hair as his eyes meet the ground in front of him.

“Oscar was going to leave so that we could have dinner together… you and I…” his voice is soft, just barely a murmur.

Your heart skips in your chest. “Lando-”

“And I missed it. I can’t believe it. I had so many reminders set up so that I wouldn’t forget it. That’s why I came here, so that I could tell you,” he looks at his phone “but now it’s after midnight, so it’s not even your birthday anymore.” His words come out quick. He’s rambling, too afraid of what you’ll say to give you a chance to speak. “It was a stupid idea anyways. Why would I even think that there would be any chance that you’d feel the same way I do? Especially when I can’t even keep track of the day-”

His words are cut off when you lunge forward to press your lips to his. They taste sweet, like the cake you had been eating. Your hands softly cup his face, brushing against the scruff he’s started to grow out.

His hands hover in the air awkwardly, unsure of what to do, or if this is really happening. It only clicks when he feels you start to pull away, the warmth of your body moving away from his triggers something in him as he plants his hands on your hips pulling you back to him.

He kisses you now, his lips moving confidently against yours as he pulls you impossibly closer to him.

You’re both out of breath when you reluctantly pull away from one another. His lips are pink and a little swollen. You can’t imagine yours look much different.

“I do have feelings for you Lando.” You lean your forehead against his.

He smirks, a newfound confidence taking over. “Really? I couldn’t tell.”

You lightly push on his chest, escaping his hold. “Go away.” You laugh.

He’s quick to wrap his arms around you, holding you against his chest. His eyes travel down to your lips, then he gives you another quick kiss. His smirk is replaced with a grin when he pulls away. “Never.”

#lando norris x reader #lando norris #formula one x reader #formula one #ln4

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starzblvd · 4 months

Text

Counting Seconds | Ellie Williams

synopsis; A new special way to welcome the new year in Ellie’s old bedroom during a party

an; Wishing everyone a happy new years !! I’m going to be eating grapes under the table and following superstitions🤍

established relationship, panty play, some spit play(?), scissoring, fingering (receiving), dom!ellie sub!reader

જ⁀➴˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Back in Jackson Ellie agreed to help host a New Year’s party with Joel, Dina, Jesse. Of course any of your friends or family were free to join.

Considering the party was held in the house Ellie was raised in during her youth she took the liberty to dress more comfortably. The party was open invite, more people than you’d thought ended showing up. It was a lively party, everyone had plenty of things to talk about since the night was still young. The music would have been irritatingly loud if not for it being New Year’s Eve. Opposite of Ellie, you dressed up and did your hair up. Black mini skirt and your favorite top, now fixing a few flyaway hairs in the bathroom mirror, then you heard someone’s knocking outside the door.

“I’ll be out in a sec!”

Ellie turned the knob and let herself in when she heard your familiar voice, walking in to hug you from behind making eye contact through the mirror. “Think you’re gonna make it to midnight?”

“We have to make it to midnight El’s.”

જ⁀➴˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ Now that it was closer to midnight your vow to stay awake didn’t sound so important. The loudness of the music had the opposite effect, instead keeping you alert it was almost like a lullaby easing you to sleep. Ellie didn’t look sleepy in the slightest, she was swirling her drink by the glass rim staring at the performances on the television.

With her back turned to you, leaning in you clutch her waist in allowing your head to rest on Ellie, using her back as a pillow. Maybe this way you’d find it easier to make it to the end of the night. Ellie caught on early how you were currently struggling to stay up with how you sighed, then breathing back in her sweetly tart perfume scent.

“Cmon, getting tired already? We’re just half an hour away,”

Putting aside her drink on the table, she held her hand on top of your own. Ellie nudged you buy rolling her shoulder to hopefully open your eyes from their half lidded position, but you responded by groaning against her spine and squeezing her to let you stay like that a little longer. Long enough for you to see the clock strike zero.

Standing behind her, Ellie looked from the left of the room to the right checking the coast to make sure not one person would notice to arise suspicion for her next moves. People were on the other side of the room so she took this as her sign to go. “I need to show you something.”

A quieted low laugh came from her while prying your hold away. Ellie held her arm out to you still looking everywhere else to make sure she’s slipping away quietly. Treading more on your toes than your heels you followed her up the steps of the staircase ascending away from the party. Upstairs the music was muffled, Ellie geared towards her room kicking the door open with the tip of her shoe. The hinges squeaked like in annoyance with how she never used the handle, inside her old room the walls were painted a muted blue.

Posters pinned up of almost everything she’d ever taken an interest in, memorabilia of her teen years in every corner of her room. The current studio in your shared apartment shared so many similarities to this room, it was cute really.

Ellie rolled her eyes at your staring, grinning she anchored you down with her weight onto the bed to sit next to her. Immediately she was leaning into your body kissing you fast onto your lips, then your cheeks, then the bottom of your jaw. By now you’ve gotten a hint of her intentions of bringing you alone.

“El’s there’s people below”

“A few kisses isn’t gonna scare them,”

Being so close her words ticked on your skin and so did her seemingly never ending peppered kisses. Regardless of being on a different floor, paranoid you kept your giggles hushed to not be heard by any other soul than Ellie’s.

Slipping from her original spot she sunk down to the ground onto her knees, poised right before you. Putting your hands together for her to kiss the soft skin of your fingers, Ellie was savoring you slowly as to make sure not to miss any part of you. With both legs pressed together you could feel a new need for her. Subconsciously squeezing and tensing your thighs together didn’t help the surge of impatience for attention from you. It would be embarrassing for how quickly you got like this if Ellie wasn’t the same.

“El’s,”

“What are you so whiny for?”

She whispered and even her chuckling was brought down to the same volume you spoke. Except Ellie didn’t plan on keeping so quiet the entire time. She rode the fabric of your skirt up delicately letting the sheen of the moons light gloss your thighs. Whether you choosing to opt out on wearing safety shorts tonight specifically was intentional or not, she pulled the sides of your panties up making a clear, tight display of your puffy lips. Allowing, no, begging her to get closer you further separated your legs apart, leaning back onto the support of your forearms staring down at Ellie giving her lips a coat of saliva with a quick lick.

At first she plunged in with the tip of her nose bumping your clit before moving her face up to properly kiss it. Bringing the panties even more higher up your torso the fabric scrunched to be enveloped in between your folds, exposing how’d your body quickly opened up yearning for Ellie.

Keeping the panties in front of your cunt she put some pressure in sticking her thumb in, only a bit. Ellie was acting insufferable only giving you teases, pushing down onto her finger only made her retract her hand and body back.

“You gotta hold off a little, can’t go giving it up so easily,”

“but, I want to.”

”you sure about that?”

Placing her hand back onto your crotch bottom side wrist up, her index took no time to force the soaked underwear out and to the side, easily plunging into you with her middle finger too, squishing the wetness while doing so. Whimpering louder than you’d like to let out was more embarrassing and nerve racking given the situation outside the door. Wiggling her fingers up and down outed the absolute messy sticky slush you had created in the few passing minutes.

Touching up on the spongey spot inside you with her long fingers completely lost in you, by now you’d wish Ellie moved faster.

On the shelf of the headboard there was a digital clock that had the seconds in the corner ticking by, counting down. 11:53. Ellie shifts upwards putting a knee up on the edge of the bed between your legs, doing this she slid out from you to grab the clock.

Ellie smiled at the red illuminated digits scoffing at it, soft and raspy “I can use this.”

Watching her pushing herself up from the ground to sit besides you, Ellie grazed your skin trailing up your thighs to completely remove and get rid of your panties. Slowly, she moves a bit back to lower her head to kiss your exposed clit, to suck it into her mouth with her lips so she could touch it with the tip of her tongue, plopping it back out with a coat of Ellie’s spit.

Bringing her head up to meet your face she smooshed your lips into another kiss, but you were needy now. Wasting no time to unbuckle her belt, not bothering to take it out the loops instead just pulling down her jeans along with her underwear. You could feel her heavy breathing on your top lip,

“I’ve been needing this all night.”

Ellie kicked her jeans off with each leg, pushing down onto you while cupping your hips. Now you were laid down completely on your arched back, raising your right leg up to her shoulder. When you easily offered yourself up for her like this she couldn’t ignore her urges anymore and immediately straddled her body onto you groaning a moan out when she could put her throbbing cunt on yours. Starting to rock on top of you, moving on you felt like continuous weaker orgasms that fluttered by. Meanwhile you were teased and touched the entire time so far, Ellie didn’t get to receive any attention on her own cunt, keeping everything inside her pants. Letting for her self made mess by watching you, playing with you, to pool and drown itself in itself before meeting yours. Whatever silence on the upper floor remained was filled with the slippery noises that came with the desires of each other and not to quiet moans.

“I need to fuck-…fucking see your tits.”

Her words came out trembling off her lips, like being almost out of breath, obliging by Ellie’s demands you grabbed the hem of your top pulling it off, trying to yank your bra right off too, disregarding the clasps in the back. Ellie copied your actions and brought her t-shirt over her head making her hair all disheveled, it was easier considering Ellie only ever wore sport bras.

Once your nipples got hit by the colder air and hardened she scooped both boobs into her palms to make some cleavage while they bounced back and forth. Looking up, the glowing stars placed on the ceiling started rocking back and forth too. Ellie let go one of her hands to pick the clock back up, staring at the seconds it was 17 seconds til midnight struck. Slowing down the speed she was going at she turned over the clock so you’d see the seconds go down for yourself.

“what are you showing-“

“We’re going to..make it to..zero.”

Ellie was seriously dedicated to pin pointing both of your climaxes the moment it became midnight. Placing the clock below your boobs staring the seconds down with furrowed brows, refusing to give you the satisfaction of cumming before she said so.

“10.” Ellie started counting down, thrusting only once.

“9” Not getting any faster. People started joining in counting down, quiet between numbers.

“8” One hand cupped her own breast while the other cupped yours.

”7” She squished the bundle of nerves in your nipple.

“5” Moving just faster to pick up pace, careful to not set her off.

“4” Forgetting to be careful.

“3” You could fell yourself on the very urge to unravel.

“2..fuck it.” Inconsiderate of the time Ellie pushed herself down on your clit with hers, sliding down on your slick, cumming right outside your cunt entrance. Downstairs people erupted into screams, they couldn’t hear Ellie’s broken stuttering moan, but maybe they could hear the high moan close to a yell you let out right after hers. The liquid slid down to the duvet, it was mixed with your cum and even more so with the last gentler thrusts.

Ellie collapsed right on top of you sandwiching the clock in the middle of your sweaty bodies. Kissing your cheek she blew a strand of hair from your face away, she looked tired but elated. Ellie lifted herself up to properly look at you,

“I can’t wait to love you for another year.”

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vrisrezis · 10 months

Text

Love triangle?? With atsv characters

Basically a love triangle between them, their spider alter ego and you … ?

Gwen has been longtime best friends with you and Peter for what feels like forever. Even after peters passing, you and Gwen remained close. Throughout the years, it was only natural for gwen to fall for you, her best friend. Peter had often encouraged her to try and go for it, but she never gave in to the temptation. Not when she has been lying to you for so long about who she really was. While her dad did often speak his mind on the mysterious spiderwoman and his doubts, you always seemed excited talking about her. It didn’t take long for her to find out you were not only a huge fan, but definitely had a bit of a crush.

This was amusing to her, obviously. But it also made her wonder if you felt nothing for the real her, and you just liked some alter ego of hers because she was cool and saved the day or whatever.

How you and spiderwoman met, was not under the best of circumstances. As you can imagine.

Growing up, you were always pretty tough. Fighting for and defending Peter against bullies, it was what drawn gwen to you right away. You always stood up for others, and perhaps in the real world it’d get you in more trouble, trying to help a defenses old man against some mugger, you nearly got real hurt in the process. Thankfully, your celebrity crush was there to web him up.

She remembers the look you gave her, you were so.. awestruck.

You never looked at her like that. Not the real her, anyway.

“Thank you spiderwoman!” you say with glee, a word she would almost never use to describe you.

She clears her throat, seeming off guard by the way you greeted her. Or perhaps she was caught off guard by how beautiful you looked in the moonlight. Is it hot outside or is it just her suit?

“Uh… uh…” she hesitates for a moment, before displaying faux confidence. She nods in understanding, “anytime, hopefully next time I’ll see you under better circumstances, cutie.” she says with a wink, before swinging away.

There’s practically hearts in your eyes, did spider woman… just flirt with you?!

Meanwhile, gwen is freaking the hell out over the fact she just said that. It’s certainly easier to flirt under the mask, she supposes.

You didn’t shut up about spiderwoman for the next week.

Miles was one of your best friends, had been for over a year now. Although this friendship, to many seemed newly found, to you both it felt like you knew eachother forever. You often ignored how Ganke never failed to mention that’s something people in love say about eachother.

Ganke was a close friend to the both of you. He was also very much aware of how miles was keeping this huge secret from you, and he often relayed to miles how he should just tell you already. Miles said no, everytime. So ganke had to resort to desperate measures, on one of your many hangouts with the two males.

“Hey, I’m curious.” Ganke starts, “what do you think of Spiderman?”

Miles nearly chokes, he looks wide eyed at ganke, as if ganke just killed a cat. Honestly, ganke is surprised miles hadn’t brought up Spiderman to you himself before, but honestly miles was terrified of what you actually thought, to the point he didn’t want it mentioned at all in front of you.

But your immediate grin makes miles almost audibly sigh.

“I think he’s awesome! Way cooler than the other one to be honest like wow have you seen that suit? Nice color.” Miles couldn’t help but notice the way your eyes lit up in excitement. How come he hasn’t heard you talk about spiderman before if you liked him so much?

“Hey, miles?”

“Huh?!” he yells, his voice becoming so high pitched it sounded like he was just hitting puberty, making you laugh.

“I- I mean.. yeah… what’s up?”

“Do you think he’s … cute?” you ask, rather curious what miles thinks of spiderman.

Ganke almost laughs at how wide miles eyes are, somehow even wider than before.

You would eventually have the chance to meet spiderman, which was not something miles would be happy about. A fight with a particularly … tough villain had caused much damage to the city. Miles swears, today he had to pull up at least 3 buses by his webs.

However, the bus you were in, as plain as day. He couldn’t see anyone but you, the other people in the bus being a blur to him.

He was scared, so so so scared. The moment you’re out and safe, he wants to hug you. He almost does, but he’s able to restrain himself once he feels gwen tug his arm, warning him of how weird that’d be.

He sighs, but he sees you smile at him, grateful. He’s blissfully unaware of how hot your cheeks are, seeing him in the flesh, in person.

You wonder if he’d be okay with signing an autograph.

Hobie was never the type for being subtle. He was blunt, but because of his casualness about it people do not take what he says seriously. He didn’t plan on making a strong effort to hide being spiderman from you. Because he trusts you, with his life in fact.

You two have fought together on many different occasions, way before he became spiderman. People didn’t like either of you, when you were young at least. Strong and unafraid, and like him, you often spoke your mind about things. Granted, you were a lot nicer about it but still. It’s something he definitely likes about you. To him, falling for you just felt natural. Like it was meant to happen. Like falling for you was second nature.

But over his time of becoming spiderman, he had … well… found out you had a major crush on his alter ego. You did not shut up about how “babygirl” he was. And while this was amusing at first, it annoyed him a little. Did that mean you weren’t interested in him, as hobie, romantically? And if you did find out who he really was, would you still like spiderman? Or would it ruin the imagination for you? And if you did, would it only be because he’s spiderman?

A lot of questions circle his mind, a lot of worry and it isn’t like him. He really hates it. Only you can manage to do that to him.

Eventually, the two of you do end up meeting.

You were known for being a fighter, laws or not, you didn’t care, maybe a bit headstrong in your beliefs. Maybe you got too caught up in things, as you often did. Difference was, hobie was not there to back you up. As he often was.

Not this time though, as apparently Hobie had some unfinished business to deal with. You had no idea what that meant, but you trusted hobie enough that he wouldn’t go off doing something stupid without you.

You were not hobie however, and did something stupid without him.

While yes, the guy had harassed you first and you had every right to be angry with him, you probably shouldn’t have provoked such a big and muscular looking guy. There’s no way you could take him in a fight, but you could always try.

Before you even had the gall to fight this guy, before he can even pull the first punch, webs are shot his way. You gasp in surprise, turning behind you to see the one and only.

His movements are quick, and honestly, spiderman struggles for a little.

If even he struggled during that fight, you didn’t stand a chance. But you’re too busy absolutely fangirl/boy/theythem’ing to even care.

Once everything was said and done, Spiderman turned around to take a look at you. He was relieved you weren’t banged up or anything, though you couldn’t tell. “You aight?” he asked, and typically he was so cool and collected, but around you he had no idea how he should be acting. Thoughts from before still clouding his mind:

He lets them go for a moment upon your excited squeal and has to hold himself back from laughing.

Pavitr mentioned spiderman quite a bit, and very early on when he first became the masked vigilante. He was quick to gauge your opinions, because in his mind you’re thoughts and feelings matter the most to him.

He would quickly learn you loved the guy, so he proudly continued doing the whole superhero thing. However, as time went by he had seen your admiration for Spiderman develop into a crush. Only upon your first meeting with him, though. He couldn’t blame you, he supposed that in your eyes this guy saved your life from imminent peril. In his eyes, he was just doing something that was common sense. Saving you while you were trapped in that bus was not something he needed to think twice about.

And he certainly didn’t think twice about hugging you, either. Despite you two not really being acquainted with one another. He was quick to come to his senses, about to pull away, but you held on. And he realized you needed this hug as much as he did. He combs his fingers through your hair, as if second nature. Just like he normally did, and he was the only one that ever did that. You didn’t seem to catch on in that state, but little did he know how grateful you were towards him. He could only imagine, but it was a fraction to how you truly felt.

“Thank you, spiderman.” You say with such softness in your voice, he’s never heard it from you before.

And from that point on, he did not stop hearing you gush about the arachnid. While he often laughed this off, he wondered if that meant things would be weird between you two if he told you the truth.

#spiderman x reader #spiderman india x reader #pavitr prabhakar x reader #pavitr x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #spiderpunk x reader #spiderwoman x reader #spidergwen x reader #gwen x reader #gwen stacy x reader #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x you #miles morales x reader #atsv x y/n #atsv x you #atsv x reader

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handmade-witch · 3 months

Text

Another round of Incorrect Quotes Generator x Slytherin Boys:

Part 1 ☆ Part 3 ☆ Part 4 ☆ Part 5 ☆ Part 6

Mattheo: Sorry I'm late, I was doing stuff.

Draco: YOU PUSHED ME DOWN THE FUCKING STAIRS!

☆☆☆

Draco: Hey, quick question. How petty am I allowed to be?

☆☆☆

Mattheo: I’m not stupid, you know.

[Y/n]: Well, you’re doing a really good impression of it!

☆☆☆

Mattheo: She's the girl of my dreams!

Theodore: You say every girl is the girl of your dreams.

Mattheo: I have a lot of dreams!

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: *banging a pen on the table out of frustration*

Mattheo: Stop that. How would YOU feel if I banged you on the table?

[Y/N]: I—

[Y/N]: I don’t know the correct answer to that question.

☆☆☆

Draco: I have an idea.

[Y/n]: A good idea?

Draco: Let's not get ahead of ourselves.

☆☆☆

*Draco is laying on the floor with their eyes closed*

Mattheo: Hey, are they sleeping or dead?

Theodore: Hopefully dead, I hated them.

Mattheo: Yeah, me too.

Draco, sitting up: First of all, fuck you guys.

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: That sounds like a terrible plan.

Theodore: Oh, we've had worse.

☆☆☆

[Y/N], texting Mattheo: Text me when you’re home safely.

Mattheo: I’m home dangerously.

[Y/N]: Stop it.

Mattheo: I’m home lethally.

☆☆☆

Draco: Hey, what have you two been up to?

Mattheo: We were helping [Y/N] write their vows, but they kicked us out because Lorenzo was making inappropriate suggestions.

Lorenzo: How is “Theodore, I love your sweet ass” inappropriate?

☆☆☆

[Y/N], talking about Mattheo: Is this a friend of yours, Draco?

Draco: Kind of? Not really. They're in my life and there's nothing I can do about it.

☆☆☆

Theodore: What is wrong with you?

Mattheo: Loaded question. Elaborate.

☆☆☆

Draco: Guess what I'm about to get!

Blaise: On my nerves.

☆☆☆

Blaise: All of your existences are confusing.

The Squad: How so?

Blaise: Your presence is annoying, but the thought of anything bad happening to any of you deeply upsets me.

☆☆☆

Draco: How did you convince everyone to betray me? What did you offer them?

Blaise: I just asked if they wanted to embarass you and they all said yes.

☆☆☆

Theodore: Hey, are you okay?

[Y/N]: Yeah.

Theodore: You don't look okay...

[Y/N]: Then stop looking.

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: Ah ready for another fantastic day of being better than Draco.

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: Kill me nowwwww.

Mattheo: Sorry, no can do. I need your help with my homework.

☆☆☆

Mattheo: Lorenzo! For the love of god, please turn down that music. I have a hangover.

Lorenzo: *blasting the mii theme at full volume* That sounds like a you problem, not a mii problem.

☆☆☆

Draco: You read my diary?

Blaise: At first I did not know it was your diary. I thought it was a very sad handwritten book.

☆☆☆

Blaise: [Y/N] won’t come out of their room!

Mattheo: Just tell them I said something.

Blaise: Like what?

Mattheo: Anything factually incorrect.

Blaise, shrugging: If you say so.

[Y/N], arriving moments later: Did you just say the sun is a PLANET?

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: If you got arrested what would be the charges?

Lorenzo: Theft.

Blaise: Disturbing the peace.

Theodore: Aggravated assault.

Draco: Arson.

Mattheo: All of the above. In that order, probably

☆☆☆

Police: You’re under arrest for trying to carry three people on a single motorcycle.

Blaise, with Theodore and Mattheo behind them: Wait, what do you mean THREE?!

Police: Yes…three.

Blaise: Oh, my God— What the fuck!?

Police: Wha-

Blaise: Lorenzo FUCKING FELL OFF!

☆☆☆

Mattheo: I said ‘No’ to drugs, but they wouldn’t listen.

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: Name a more iconic duo than my crippling fear of abandonment and my anxiety. I’ll wait.

Lorenzo: You and me!

[Y/N]: *tearing up* Ok.

☆☆☆

Theodore: *yawns*

[Y/N]: Yeah, being that pretty must be tiring.

Theodore: Then you must be exhuasted.

Blaise: Will you two shut up? Some of us are lonely.

#slytherin boys #lorenzo berkshire #theodore nott #blaise zabini #matteo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #blaise zabini x reader #theodore nott x reader #theo nott #lorenzo berkshire x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #harry potter universe

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moonstruckme · 4 months

Note

hiii!! i love your writing so much i think i’ve read every single thing you’ve ever posted. i’m genuinely obsessed 🫶🫶 i was wondering if you could write something where the reader and remus have been dating/talking for a little while and she hasn’t had her first kiss yet and she starts to get nervous everytime she thinks he’s abt to kiss her and she runs away?? i’m ngl this is based off of very real events in my life 😭😭

i love you so much!! hope your doing amazing

Hi gorgeous, thanks so much! This is soooo relatable of you haha, I have a library of hilarious stories about my very hyper friend who kept literally springing away from guys she liked who were trying to kiss her, but it does make for some very interesting (and often very sweet) conversations!

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

On your first official date with Remus, the two of you went to a drive-in movie. You kept your seatbelt on the entire time.

You only realized halfway through, mentally kicking yourself for being so jittery you’d lost all sense of normalcy, but by then it felt too late. It’d be awkward to take it off halfway through the movie, try to play that off as casual. You’d made your bed. You didn’t unbuckle until Remus dropped you off at your house at the end of the night.

On your second date, you’re determined to be less uptight. You want him to know that you really do like him, even if your nerves make you jump and flinch whenever he gets close. At the Italian restaurant, it’s difficult to find a pasta dish without garlic, but you manage it. You’re a girl with an agenda. The two of you split a chocolate cake for dessert. It’s delicious, probably, though you can’t focus on much besides Remus’ story and the way his mouth moves as he tells it. How he tucks one corner of his bottom lip between his teeth when he’s trying to hide a smile.

You have to hope belatedly that you haven’t somehow smeared chocolate all over your face while eating. You’re not at all confident you would’ve noticed.

It’s a short walk back to your place, and you manage to jabber the whole way, a masterclass in self-sabotage. Remus doesn’t seem to mind, his hand light and cordial on your back as he guides you up the steps to your door. You savor the touch. It takes every ounce of willpower you have not to spring away.

“It sounds really interesting,” he says graciously as you finish your tangent about the book you’ve just read. “I’ll have to pick up a copy.”

“I can lend you mine,” you offer. “Maybe I can bring it the next time we hang out?” Your voice tips up hopefully at the end of the question, and warmth touches your cheeks.

A similar pinkening spreads across Remus’ freckles. He smiles at you, the scar across his lip stretching. You’re spellbound.

“Yeah, that sounds great.” You might be imagining it, but you could swear his eyes flit to your lips. “I had a great time tonight,” he says. “I really like talking to you.”

Your voice is soft. “I like talking to you, too.”

He takes a step towards you, and it’s like your muscles stage a coup. You take an involuntary step backward, a smile plastering itself uncomfortably on your face.

“Thanks for everything,” you say brightly. “Goodnight!”

You spin and go for the door handle, and you’re nearly inside before you hear Remus’ quiet “Wait.”

You turn. Lead in your bones.

Remus is holding his palms up as if to show you he’s got no weapon.

“Sorry,” he says, “I just wanted to…you know I’d never do anything you didn’t want me to, right?”

You’re frozen stiff.

“Like, even if I thought there was a chance you didn’t want to, I would never…” He shakes his head, looking lost. Guilt settles like a stone in your gut. “I guess I’m a bit confused. If you don’t want to do anything, that’s completely fine, but sometimes it seems like you want me to kiss you, and then you don’t…”

“Rem,” you say. You feel like you’re breathing through a straw. “Remus, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart, it’s not your fault—”

“No, it is. It’s not—I don’t want you to think I’m scared of you or anything. I’m not, it’s just, I get skittish.” You can’t make yourself look at his eyes, your gaze stuck just shy of his chin. Your face feels aflame. “It’s not you. I’m just nervous.”

“Oh.” It’s a soft thing, more exhale than anything. Then his fingers curl under your chin, tipping your face up. “Well, you can relax, love. I was never going to make a move unless I got a clear signal from you first. But we can just take that off the table completely, if you’d like.” He gives you a small, gentle smile. “I only want you to feel comfortable.”

Your heart zings right up into your throat. “I do feel comfortable,” you blurt. “I don’t want it off the table.”

Remus’ eyebrows flick upwards. “You don’t?”

“No,” you murmur, bashful.

His eyebrows come slowly back down, puckering slightly as he tries to figure you out. His eyes narrow until his lashes kiss. His tongue pokes into his cheek, just a little. You miss nothing. You find yourself taking in a quiet breath, steeling yourself.

You move across that tiny bit of air between you and find him there waiting.

It’s everything you could’ve hoped for and yet startlingly simple. Remus’ lips are warm and soft, pressing into yours with an intensity that you suspect is nonetheless restrained for your benefit. He tastes like chocolate cake.

His mouth meanders over to the corner of your lips, granting one quick peck to your cheek before making its way back to the center of your mouth, reverent. He backs away slowly, easing you out of it.

“Wasn’t really expecting that,” he admits.

“Me neither. Was it alright?” Your voice is a bit breathy. “I’ve never done that before.”

For a moment, he’s quiet.

“That was your first kiss?”

You swallow, rubbing your lips together as you nod.

“Sweetheart,” he grins, “you’re a natural.”

A giggle spurts out of you, dizzy with the taste of him and the novelty of it all. “You mean it?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you.” He mimes drawing a cross over his heart. It occurs to you that you both seem infinitely more at ease than you have since dinner. The corner of Remus’ bottom lip goes between his teeth, his cheek dimpling. “I mean, there is something to be said for practice, though.”

You don’t fight your own grin; it comes out in full force. “Mm, I think I’ve heard something about that. Practice makes…defective, right? Something like that.”

“C’mere.” Remus rolls his eyes at you, but as his arms wrap around you his smile mirrors yours.

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darby-rowe · 3 months

Text

— baby blue, bambi, & you.

academy!coriolanus snow x academy!sejanus plinth x academy!fem!reader

18+ | nsfw | mdni word count 2.2k cw frotting, voyeurism, f. masturbation, m/m/f threesome, double penetration, dirty talk, swearing, light degradation, face slapping, cunnilingus, anilingus (f. receiving), spit play, p in v, anal, unprotected sex (please use protection), creampie (vaginal & anal), not proofread notes [cries while i throw this at yall] HERE JUST TAKE IT. TAKE IT AND LEAVE. im gonna be so honest and say that writing threesomes are so hard, so hopefully yall like this!!! loosely based off of this ask.

You swore you were only gone for a little over ten minutes.

You quickly ran down the street to grab some snacks for the study session you were about to have with your friends Coriolanus and Sejanus. Just a couple of sweet and savory treats to nibble on as the three of you cram for finals. It was your fault for insisting the two boys stay back while you made your run because you were sure they would be a distraction. And you wanted to get down to studying as quickly as possible.

But now here you were, mouth agape like an idiot, staring through the crack in your door as you watched Coriolanus and Sejanus frotting their cocks together. In your own bed.

What the hell is someone supposed to do in this situation? You didn’t want to interrupt them because that would just be mortifying for all three of you. But if you let them keep going, who knew how long that would take? Were they planning on fully railing each other in your bed, completely unbeknownst to your shocked gaze? You still had the tote bag of snacks stupidly hanging off your shoulder. Maybe you should’ve jostled it around to make your presence known, give them time to collect themselves before you enter?

However, you didn’t do that. You didn’t do anything. You didn’t move a muscle. You just. Kept. Staring.

This was wrong. You knew it was wrong to spy on two people like this, watching as Coriolanus laid on his elbows while Sejanus sat on his knees, squeezing their hard cocks as he humped them back and forth. The way Coriolanus’s blonde curls fell into his blue eyes as he stared up at Sejanus with parted lips, panting ever so slightly and softly rubbing Sejanus’s forearm. Both boys had their pants and underwear pulled down just enough so their cocks could spring free (they must have been desperate to feel each other). From this angle, Sejanus looked as if he towered over Coriolanus, his build looking a lot stronger as he took control. Sweet melodic moans escaped Sejanus’s lips, and a couple of curses were heard beneath Coriolanus’s breath.

You had to squeeze your legs together as you quickly found yourself becoming more and more wet as you watched. You always found the two of them cute, and the prospect of dating either one of them wasn’t too far out of your reach. But at that moment you were plagued by even more questions. Were they dating each other without your knowledge? How come they never told you? Was this just one of those weird male obligation things? Like, “I’ll scratch your back if you scratch mine”? You never got men, and you surely were more confused now more than ever.

You slowly sat the tote bag down on the ground before slipping your hand underneath your skirt to rub at the growing wet spot on your panties. Now this was wrong, and you knew it, too. You felt as if you weren’t better than a common pervert spying on his neighbors through his window. Your mouth watered as your eyes trained on their cocks sliding against each other. You never knew they were both so… big. Coriolanus had more length while Sejanus was more thick. And for a split second, you wondered to yourself how they would both fit in your mouth.

The sheer thought of having both of their dicks in your mouth makes you rub yourself harder. You can almost even taste the saltiness of their skin right on your tongue. You end up closing your eyes for just a moment before looking back through the crack of your door, biting down hard on your lip to keep from making noise.

Coriolanus threw his head back and let out a moan that made your tummy do flips. It just made sense that such a pretty noise would come from a pretty boy. You dared to lean in further, to garner more of their conversation as you slipped your hand inside your panties to rub your clit more directly.

Sejanus was panting as he continued to hump above Coriolanus, occasionally letting out a curse or a small groan to vocalize his pleasure. “Feels good, yeah?” Sejanus mumbled, eliciting a small, “Fuck yeah,” from the blonde boy below him. You bit down harder on your lip.

“Gonna cum all over your cock,” Sejanus said under his breath, making Coriolanus mewl with excitement as he gripped at your bedsheets.

The blonde boy rocked his hips further into Sejanus’s grip. “Fuck yeah, cum all over me,” he growled through gritted teeth.

God, I want them to cum inside me, you thought.

You completely forgot about your moral dilemma from earlier. Everything about the scene unfolding right in front of your eyes was hot. So insanely fucking hot. It just made you rub at yourself faster and faster.

You wanted so badly to shove your fingers inside yourself and fuck your wet pussy as you watched the two boys frot their cocks together, but you knew the squelching would be loud enough to reach their ears. You had to settle for just teasing your clit, which was completely fine because you felt yourself already getting close to cumming.

The way Sejanus looked down at Coriolanus, talking to him with such filth as the blonde boy’s eyes filled with need — all of it was too much. Your thighs began to shake as the warmth in your lower abdomen began to unravel. You rubbed yourself more, and more, and more, until—

Your orgasm rocked your entire body, causing you to go a bit lightheaded and trip over your feet. In an effort to catch yourself, your hand desperately grabbed at your doorknob and you stumbled into your bedroom, completely exposing your perverted self to your friends. Your mouth and throat went dry, hand still down your skirt as you felt heat rise to your face and your blood go cold.

“Oh— oh, fuck,” you blurted out as the two boys stared at you. Coriolanus’s blue eyes seemed to pierce right through your very soul, and at that moment you were convinced you committed the most violating act of overstepping boundaries in your life. You quickly retracted your hand from beneath your skirt. “I am… I-I am so fucking sorry. I’m… I just—”

You really were a deer caught in headlights — caught in the headlights of Coriolanus’s and Sejanus’s gazes. However, Sejanus’s eyes were a bit softer than what you were expecting. And you also noticed how they didn’t scramble to get their clothes back on. Your eyes squinted. What was going on?

It wasn’t until Sejanus chuckled breathlessly at you and extended out a hand, waving you over towards the bed. “It’s okay, Y/N,” he assured. “C’mere, join us,”

You had to take a moment to process his words, but it wasn’t long before you quickly ripped off your cardigan and took Sejanus’s hand. His strong arm pulled you in for a deep, sloppy kiss as you crawled onto your bed, swiftly getting pushed down towards Coriolanus. You straddled the blonde boy’s waist as you leaned down to kiss him as well, lightly gasping as you felt the brown-haired boy flip up your maxi skirt and pull down your panties.

“God, you were really wet watching us, huh?” Sejanus teased from behind you, causing your face to heat up even more. You were about to defend yourself until you felt Sej’s warm tongue lick a stripe from your clit all the way up, up, up to your asshole. You shivered and let out a small whimper, eliciting a chuckle from Coryo.

“You were touching yourself, weren’t you?” Coryo teased, gently caressing your heated face with his cold hands. He let his thumb trace over your bottom lip and you gladly parted your lips to let him inside your mouth. “Such a naughty girl,”

You flinched a bit as you felt Sejanus spit onto your asshole, slowly pressing his finger inside you, eliciting a low groan from your throat. “How would you feel if we fucked both your holes, hm? Gonna spy on us and not expect to get the full treatment?”

You had to admit: Sejanus’s words shocked you. Everything was moving so fast. One moment you were out buying meaningless snacks to study and now you were about to have two out of three of your holes stuffed at the same time. You could barely even get any words out, only incoherent groans and whimpers.

You batted your eyelashes down at Coriolanus, who promptly smirked cheekily up at you and lightly slapped your cheek a couple of times. “Haven’t said a single word, yet,” he taunted. “C’mon, you dirty little pervert — do you want both our cocks inside you?”

The heat in your cheeks never left you, and when you didn’t respond for a few seconds, you gasped and yelped as you felt a sudden smack on your ass from Sejanus.

“Use your words, pretty girl,” Sejanus said, lightly rubbing his warm hand on the place of impact, making you softly whimper as words tried to escape your throat.

And Sejanus made speaking even more difficult as you felt him slowly begin to rub his rock hard cock in between your ass, making the words catch in your throat once more. Coriolanus gripped your face and forced you to look down at him, making you gasp.

“I asked you a fucking question, pervert,” The blonde boy snarled, earning you another slap on the cheek. “You’re a big girl, yeah? So answer us,”

“Yes!” You cried before the two boys could continue. “Please, god, just fuck me. Fuck me, please,”

“Aww,” Coriolanus mocked. “She speaks, Sejanus. Do you think we should give this perverted slut what she wants?”

You felt a soothing hand splay on your back. “Don’t be mean to her, Coryo,” Sejanus cooed, retracting his cock from between your ass to position at your entrance. “We can’t have her all worked up when I’m trying to — god — shove my cock in her ass,”

You grunted and threw your head back as you felt Sejanus’s thick cock slowly enter your ass, fisting hard at your bedsheets as you withstood the sharp sting. Even though Coriolanus could be a brat at times, the boy still had the heart to kiss you through the pain.

And soon enough, Sejanus’s cock was all the way inside you, and breathing deeply to regulate yourself, Coriolanus pushed inside your pussy with ease. The sound of both boys being enveloped by your tight holes had your head spinning, and slowly, you felt the two of them begin to fuck themselves inside you.

“Fuck…!” You cried, feeling Sejanus’s hand soothingly rub your back as he thrusted his dick in and out of your tight ass. The sweet, sweet sound of Sejanus relishing in how tight you are, his groans of pleasure, his warm hands on your back and hips — it made your mind hazy, growing more and more drunk on their cocks.

“Can’t… can’t take it… ‘s too much…” You mumbled, earning a condescending giggle from Coriolanus, who took it upon himself to wrap his arms around your waist and start fucking upwards into your squelching pussy.

If it was possible, your fingers dug deeper into your bedsheets as you let out strained cries and moans of pure ecstasy as you felt so incredibly full.

“Such a naughty little girl,” Coriolanus teased, his breath catching from the amount of energy he was exerting from fucking up into you.

“So fuckin’ tight,” Sejanus added, his moans melodically mixing with yours, creating a symphonic cacophony of ecstasy. You had no idea what to do with your body, trading sloppy lazy kisses with Coriolanus periodically, body jolting whenever Sejanus smacked your ass.

It wasn’t long before you felt your orgasm already drawing close, feeling like your body was going to explode with the mixture of sensations happening inside you. Your nerves felt so hot that you thought you were about to explode into flames, getting fucked so hard and good by your two hot classmates. Your mind felt dumb, blank, too hazy to even think.

“I can feel your pussy about to cum,” Coriolanus said from beneath you. “C’mon, cum on our cocks. Yeah, that’s right, you naughty girl,”

Your body began trembling uncontrollably, and with a sob and a cry, the coiling within your lower stomach came undone. You felt your pussy gush out your juices with each pulse of your orgasm, the sheer power of it all making you nearly collapse onto Coriolanus’s body who continued to hold you through your high.

“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum in your ass,” Sejanus mumbled, immediately followed by a pretty groan as he released himself within you. Coriolanus followed suit, cumming so hard and deep within your pussy that you swore you felt his seed enter straight into your womb.

You laid there panting, spent, filled with cum like the whore you secretly wanted to be as the two boys soothed your used body with their hands. You wanted to speak up, to say anything about what just transpired between the three of you, to ask what your relationship was going to be moving forward. But you could only muster to say one thing.

“I think…” you panted, swallowing hard. “I think we should get to studying now…”

darby-rowe, 2024. do not plagiarize my content, nor distribute my content onto any other website like AO3, etc. my writing is exclusive to tumblr only.

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agaypanic · 3 months

Note

former theater kid as well !! maybe a story about regina with a gf in theater club ?

My Little Star (Regina George X Theater Kid!Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: Your girlfriend comes to see you in your last high school show.

A/N: depending on which regina you’re envisioning with this, au where everyone has smartphones. post!mean girls regina bc then i wont feel too bad if she seems too ooc. ive been thinking a lot about romeo and juliet lately so the play is romeo and juliet teehee

***

If you had told your younger self that at the end of your senior year, you’d be the leading star in your final show and be dating Regina George, she would’ve thought you were insane.

Yet here you were, getting ready for the opening night of Romeo and Juliet while your girlfriend spam-texted you words of encouragement.

Regina <3

You’re gonna do so good, I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU!!!

I was gonna keep it a surprise until after the show, but I got your favorite

*Sent 1 Attachment*

Unlocking your phone to respond, you were greeted with a picture of Regina sitting in the auditorium holding a large bouquet of your favorite flowers. She had a great big smile on her face, her eyes squinting from it.

Your breath hitched. You knew Regina loved you, but the picture radiated her feelings of pride for you. It made you want to run out and smother her in affection.

Instead, you texted her back.

You

OMG you’re literally the sweetest Regina!!

I’ll be looking for you in the audience lol

Regina <3

I’m sitting in the very center, so hopefully I’m easy to spot

Especially with this giant ass bouquet

You laughed at the message and soon got a tap on your shoulder from one of your friends, telling you places were in five minutes.

You

I have to go, we’re gonna start soon

But I’ll be looking for you :))

You waited until you saw a response from Regina before putting your phone in your bag.

Regina <3

YOU’RE GONNA DO AMAZING

BREAK A LEG <3333

DON’T ACTUALLY BREAK A LEG THO

THAT’D BE BAD

I LOVE YOU!!!

Laughing at her stream of messages, you put your phone away and rushed out to your place. As much as you revel in the fact that you had a leading role, you were already waiting for the show to be over so you could see Regina.

***

If you had to choose one, the death scene was probably your favorite. It was dramatic, which was always fun, and you got to stab yourself with a retractable blade.

“What’s here? A cup, closed in my true love’s hand?” You took the empty cup out of Romeo’s, whose real name was Jared, stiff hand, inspecting it. “Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end: O churl! Drunk all, and left no friendly drop to help me after?” You dropped the cup in distress, wondering what to do. Then your eyes fell on Jared’s lips, and you had a revelation. “I will kiss thy lips; Haply some poison yet doth hang on them, to make die with a restorative.”

You held his face gently in your hands and leaned down to kiss him. Every time you went through a kiss scene with Jared, you pretended it was Regina you were kissing. The passion seemed more authentic that way.

You pulled away, staring down at Jared.

“Thy lips are warm.” You said brokenheartedly. You were just barely too late. If only he had waited a while longer to drink the poison so you’d be awake to stop him.

“Lead, boy: which way?” You heard from offstage.

“Yea, noise?” You looked toward the direction of the noise’s source in a panic. “Then I’ll be brief. O happy dagger!”

You grabbed Romeo’s dagger and raised it to the audience. And that’s when you caught a glimpse of Regina. Despite the room being dark and her being far away, you could feel her excitement as she watched. You had to stop yourself from smiling.

“This is thy sheath,” You say before shoving the dagger into your heart. You gasp a little and look up. To the audience, you could’ve been looking up to the heavens in your last moments. But you were doing your best to stare into Regina’s eyes that were fixated on you. “There rust, and let me die.”

With that, you fell on top of Jared’s body, doing your best not to crush him as you ‘died.’

The scene continued from there, and you did your best not to move. Your back was killing you from the long show, but eventually, it ended. When you came out for bows, you heard a particularly loud cheer, and you didn’t have to guess who it was. It made you smile even more, so much that your cheeks started getting sore.

When the bows were over, and the cast and crew were finding their friends and family in the audience, you ran to Regina. It was a bit difficult weaving through the crowd, especially in your costume, but eventually, you reached the blonde, who had her arms opened wide and ready to catch you.

“You were amazing!” Regina all but shouted in your ear as she hugged you, squeezing you tightly. “Absolutely showstopping. One day, you’ll be a famous actress.”

“You think too highly of me, Regina.” You said with a giggle, and you were sure that your reddening cheeks were showing through your heavy stage makeup.

You grabbed your girlfriend’s face and kissed her. It was a million times better than pretending you were kissing her instead of Jared when you were on stage. Regina’s hands dropped to your hips, pulling you close against her. When you let out a little moan, you knew you should pull away before you felt like you couldn’t turn back.

“These are for you,” Regina said before biting her slightly swollen lip, giving you the giant bouquet she had gotten for you. One thing about Regina was that she was never cheap.

“I love them.” You smiled, giving her a few pecks.

“Anything for you, my little star.” The nickname made you giddy, made you feel like you were the only ones in this gigantic room. “Now how about you go change, we get some food, and then you sleep over at my house?”

“That sounds perfect.” You kissed Regina again; it was like you were addicted to her lips. “I should go now. If I kiss you anymore, I’ll probably never leave.”

“I definitely wouldn’t complain,” Regina smirked, but agreed that you should go change. She turned you around by the shoulders and gave you a quick pat on the butt to send you on your way, laughing at the way you squealed in surprise.

#agaypanic #regina george #regina george x reader #mean girls #mean girls x reader #rachel mcadams #rachel mcadams x reader #renee rapp #renee rapp x reader

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ah-ga-seven · 10 months

Text

Fucking Up the Sheets | Jung Jaehyun

Pairing: Fem!reader x Jung Jaehyun

Word count: 2.8k

Genre: smut, slice of life, teeny tiny bit of angst, fluff

Summary/Warnings: nsfw, established relationship, soft dom!jae, mentions of overstimulation, choking and squirting.

Never in your life did you imagine reaching this level of domestic in your relationship with Jaehyun this fast and so naturally. You’ve been together for 4 years now. Both of your social circles have basically melted together, and the only place where you lived separate lives was at work, especially since you started living together not long ago.

Your friends always warned you that the first few months of living together was going to be tough. You’d have to re-figure each other out and get past the tiny differences you didn’t know about yet. Living together would be nothing like staying over at each other’s’ place or going on vacations for that matter. Because now…you had a household to maintain. As a team.

But to be honest…things worked pretty fine?

The only problem is that Jaehyun only knows how to vacuum and do the dishes. He does all the other ‘manly’ stuff. Like taking out the trash, carrying the groceries in and fixing a lightbulb when needed. Though there weren't many bulbs to replace in a new home in the first place...

“Babe, when I get back from work can you please change the bed sheets. I didn’t have time.” You were running late for work, giving him a desperate look as you stood in the hallway, ready to leave with your car keys and big ass water bottle in your hands.

He didn’t look up from his phone, pursing his lips together to show his dimples as he nodded. A low hum escaped his lips, letting you know that he heard you.

You stood still for a second, knowing him well enough to know he probably half-heard you. But for the purpose of avoiding a fight you decided to just trust him for once and not nag for not listening to you because you didn’t know for sure that he didn’t.

You were just going to have to put your faith in him for once. And hopefully when you got back…he did the damn thing.

Your job had it out for you today.

You mixed up a deadline which meant you had to stay later than usual to be able to make it work and now that it was 8 pm. You were exhausted, dehydrated and tense.

You tried to relax your shoulders and cancel out the dull ache in your lower back from sitting at your desk all day, but it was of no use. It looks like Jaehyun would have to massage yet another knot out of your shoulders tonight.

The thought of seeing him after such a long day made a smile creep up on your face unknowingly. Ah, yes. Home. It really is where the heart is.

“Babe?” you called out for him once you entered the house and walked straight into your living and kitchen area. He spotted you from the couch and got up to greet you. You had a rather exhausted pout on your face which made him chuckle at your cuteness when you opened your arms for him. He embraced you tightly, which made your eyes close in solace for a second. Jaehyun planted a kiss atop of your head and let go after his hands traveled to your waist. “I got takeout. I’ll heat some up for you while you shower, okay?” he sweetly suggests as he ghosted his thumb over your frown.

You nodded with a content smile, unknitting your eyebrows for the first time in a while. Your well-deserved weekend could finally start, and all you wanted to do after your diner was climb into your warm, clean bed to binge your favorite show together, but when you got out of the shower and into your bedroom, your smile faded.

Jaehyun hadn’t made the bed yet, and just like that your good mood was spoiled.

You kick yourself for not making sure he fully heard you this morning when you asked him to put on fresh sheets.

You were more fired up than usual given todays events and angrily started to remove the pillowcases one by one, making your way to the end of the bed with annoyed stomps to start unbuttoning the duvet cover and just as you were about to pull it off, the door creaked open.

“Food is rea…dy.”

You hadn’t looked at him yet but the little pause in his sentence was a dead giveaway for the fact that he knew you were angry. And that he KNEW he was supposed to do what you were doing right now.

So, he did hear you this morning.

You turn around giving him an exhausted glare. “I thought I asked you to do this.” you say throwing one of the pillowcases right at him.

His eyebrows raised in surprise, swiftly catching the cotton cover before it could hit him in the face. “I….yeah. True.” he admits pursing his lips together to show his dimples.

You just stare back at him at a loss for words. The least he could say is “I was going to” or a “Yes, sorry, I forgot, I’ll do it right now.” But he just gave you a corny ass smile as he leaned on the doorpost. Well at least he wasn’t trying to gaslight you…but why was he looking at you look that?

You sigh in defeat, crossing your arms over your chest to seem more intimidating “Jaehyun, for fucks sake please just-” he interrupted you. “Baby where are your clothes?” he bit his lip as he gave you a look up and down and that’s when it struck you that you were only wearing your panties since you just got out of the shower.

You guess you got distracted by your unmade bed before you could even think of putting something on.

“I-” you look down at your bare chest and up at him again. “Jaehyun. Stop. I’m serious. Nothing about the way we run this household right now is 50/50.”

“Hmm.” He wasn’t hearing you. His senses completely numbed by the raging hormones coursing through his veins as he looked at you through hooded eyes. He bit the inside of his cheek, his mouth watering at the sight of your erect nipples accompanied by the remaining droplets of water from your shower that remained on your neck and chest like glistening crystals. Even after all these years you still had the same effect on him.

He closed the distance between you two, brushing your hair back as his other fingertips ghosted from your neck to your chest, clamping on of your nipples between his middle and index finger. You jolted from the sensation, his cold hands sending shivers down your spine. “Sorry baby…” he mused, planting a quick kiss to your lips. “I have to get used to having you around like this all the time…” he stopped his sentence, looking down at you in awe as he feathered his fingers down your stomach. “I’ll be better, I promise.” He whispered in your ear before biting your earlobe ever so softly, and without warning his hand disappeared into your underwear.

You immediately felt your whole body relax as you held onto his shoulders for leverage. You were dumbfounded by how easy it was for him to completely manipulate you like that. So you knew you had to put your foot down and…and uhm… - by now you felt his fingers on your clit – What were you saying again?

A breathy moan escaped your lips as you throw your head back in bliss. His digits slowly but steadily rubbing circles against your most sensitive bundle of nerves. “Jae-” you whined, unable to think straight anymore. “Hmm?” he mused, adding a bit more pressure now, making you buck your hips forwards in his hold. His other arm wrapped around your waist from behind to hold you in place for what he was about to do next as he moved your panties aside. Jaehyun then expertly coated his middle and index finger with his saliva, giving you a devilish look as he slowly inserted his fingers into you.

You gasped at the stretch, but fully gave in by now just because it felt too good not to. You huffed, trying to find inner strength to voice something other than your incoherent moans.

“L-lets argue later.” You guffawed, making him shake his head at you. He smirked contently, continuing his ministrations inside of you. “Let’s not argue at all baby.”

Fuck it. He was right.

You pulled him in for a deeper kiss as he finger-fucked you; making him moan into your mouth at your sudden eagerness. The bass in his voice made your body react to him by tightening around his fingers which made him smile against your lips. He was keeping his pumping rhythm while prying your lips open with his tongue to slowly suck on yours and by now you were sopping wet down there. You could hear it.

“Come here.” He mumbled, bending down to lift you off of the floor. You locked your ankles around his hips as he carried you to the bed. Jaehyun proceeded to let go of you playfully which made your back bounce on the matress. You giggled, watching him get rid of his shirt and sweatpants while biting your lip. You propped yourself up on your elbows to see, ghosting your fingers over his chiseled abs and his happy trail as he situated himself on top of you. He was teasingly grinding his clothed core onto yours to demonstrate how he’d fuck you with just a bit more patience. Your wetness had stained his grey sweatpants which made a string of slurs and praises roll from his lips. “Always so eager and ready for me.” he mused ghosting his thumb over your clit once again.

You lost patience and with no time to waste you pulled him in for a heated kiss again as your hands fought with the waistband of his boxers. He quickly stepped out of them once they were at his ankles, and opened up your legs as he pushed your knees up to your chest. His semi hardness rested against your thigh and the sight had your mouth watering. You wanted to pump him, but he playfully swatted your hand away. “Not until I say so,” he says sternly as he pumps his own length slowly while remaining eye contact.

Oh? Ok sir. Period.

“Why?” you pouted.

He softened seeing your cute facial expression, making him kiss your inner thigh lovingly in response.

“Cause I’m not done playing with you yet…” he was lost in thought as he roughly grabbed a handful of your breast, squeezing it hard and letting go just to slap it even harder. He was watching it bounce up and down in awe of your perfect figure, licking his lips with a lustful glare. You gasped, the stinging being a mere distraction as you watch Jaehyun eye you like a hungry animal. “You’re fucking perfect, you know that?” he says squeezing both of your tits this time. You bashfully try to avoid his stare, but he grabbed your chin, making you look at him. “Eyes on me baby.” Fuck. You couldn’t help but obey given how hot he was right now. He moved down your body again, taking your panties off of you slowly just to dive into your folds with his face.

It’s like he was starved as he ate your pussy, sensually curling, flicking and flattening his tongue against your folds and your clit in alternating motions. He had your eyes rolling back, as you grabbed fistfuls of his hair which he seemed to love, because you felt him smile against your nethers. The pleasure was making your body shock with every flick of his tongue, making you desperate for that real gush of release. “Shit. Jae, please let me cum, please, please, please!” you begged pathetically as you screwed your eyes shut. He hummed in response, but it went over your head since he never stopped his menacing dance around your clit. You kept begging as you rolled your hips against his face, making him fuck your entrance with his wet pointy tongue while his nose grazed over your clit ever so slightly. He noticed how tense you got as you tried to stop yourself from cumming just because you didn’t have his permission yet.

He eyed you as you tensed up, you were trying to move away from him but he held onto your forearms tightly, pulling you back down onto his face as he watched you slither underneath him. Now realizing what you were doing he stopped for a second, continuing to roll his thumb against your clit instead so he could speak without losing friction.

“You don’t have to ask today baby, it’s okay.” You nodded feverishly, your moans getting louder and louder as his mouth attached to your clit again. Sucking and flicking his tongue onto your clit directly this time and with a few more seconds he had your whole core shocking and trembling as you squirted all over him and the bed. “J-jae, oh my god, n-no!”

Your waters coated his lips and face, making him lick his lips and wipe his chest as he pumped his length. A low chuckle escaped his lips seeing your fucked out state but with just seconds to recuperate and no warning he pushed his cock into you in one hard motion.

You gasped loudly as all the air got knocked out of your lungs and continued to moan deliriously as he fucked you with long, deep strokes.

“This pussy is mine.” he growled, making you nod feverishly. ‘Yours, daddy! Yours!” You shout.

He smirked contently at your words, and curled his hands around your thighs, pulling you closer so your knees would be at his sides before picking up the pace. Your slick was helping out with how pleasurable and effortless his thrusts were, but still you yearned for more.

You took his right hand off of your leg and mindlessly put it around your neck to show him you wanted to be choked without words, which had his eyes darken with lust even more. He smiled, leaning forward to sweetly kiss your forehead as he starting to tightly pinch the veins on both sides of your throat. He closed his eyes, relishing in how your core tightened around his dick almost instantaneously as a reaction to his actions. “Ahh…fuck baby…s-so tight..” It was getting harder for him to control his thrusts and moans already.

You looked into his dark orbs as tears welled up in your own, cupping his face while nodding at him to make sure he knew to keep going. He slowed down, sensually fucking into you this time as you started to gasp for air and that’s when your second orgasm hit you unexpectedly. You cried out, feeling yourself squirt again as you came which had Jaehyun pull out of you and let go of your neck immediately just to cum on your tummy.

“Fuck!” he was out of breath, his chest heaving up and down just like yours as you both gasped for air. His body was glistening with both his sweat and well, your squirt and you…you were just not on planet earth anymore.

He leaned forward, pecking your neck, chin and lips before making you look at him. “Are you ok?”

Jesus you were done for, but you gave him a nod and a thumbs up with all the strength you had left in you and rolled over to your side to close your legs and regulate your breathing.

He chuckled lowly, giving you a second to breathe and collect yourself as he started to massage your thighs with soft pinches in hopes to release some of the ache. He knew he was hard on you, but he can’t help it. Something straight out animalistic awakens in him when the two of you are having sex. It was one of the things that kept your love life exciting even after 4 years of being together.

Jaehyun looked down at the sheets and himself, still high on dopamine and pride. His chest was wet, as were your thighs, and the sight was absolutely sinful. “You don’t squirt often but when you do….damn.” he mused in approval as he grabbed the nearest towel to pat himself dry. You regained enough consciousness to realize what he was saying and looked down at him, yourself and the damn bed. “Oh my god. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize…it’s the hottest thing...ever.” he giggled cutely, making your heart swell at the sound. How is that the same man who just railed you into another universe?

“I guess I can go back into that shower,” you mope.

“Yeah…let me join you.” He mumbled as he helped you up from the bed by pulling at your arm and that’s when you both felt the wet sheets.

“…Aren’t you glad I didn’t make the bed now…otherwise it would’ve been all fucked up.” He says with a playful glint in his eyes, trying to hide the fact that the corners of his mouth were trying to curl up into a smile.

You glared at him, pushing him away which made him laugh out loud as he stumbled a step back.

“Oh, shut up.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I love you.” He kissed your temple with a smile. “I’ll do it while you have your dinner. Alright?” he beamed at you so adorably that you couldn’t help but give in and nodded. “I love you too.” you say before placing a chaste kiss to his lips. “But first, let’s get cleaned up ourselves,” you say pulling him into the bathroom with you.

[Masterlist]

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